When Walls Come Crashing Down
by uncorazonquebrado
Summary: Originally based on spoilers for 2.13 Focused on Chuck/Blair. Chuck has been missing since the funeral; Blair is determined to find him, and fix him. What will happen between the two of them when their protective walls come down and all games are off?
1. Where Are You?

So I came across some spoilers and I came up with this story, was supposed to be a one-shot but I couldn't stop writing once I started..

This is my first ever so comments and reviews are greatly appreciated :) Hope you like it!

**Disclaimer:** unfortunately, I own nothing

**Summary:** Bart Bass is dead and Chuck is nowhere to be found

* * *

It had been three days since the funeral of the late Bart Bass and the UES was still trying to come to grips with what had happened. Blair Waldorf on the other hand had another Bass on her mind. She was worried. Worried sick about the one person that she hadn't seen since the day of the funeral. Chuck Bass was nowhere to be seen; he seemed to have fallen of the face of the earth. Not even Gossip Girl seemed to have any leads on his whereabouts these days.

"If only he could answer his phone!" Blair slammed her phone shut with a frown after calling Chuck for the millionth time that day, and turned to her best friend. "Where is he?"

"I wish I knew B", Serena answered her squeezing her best friends arm. "Maybe we should give up looking for today? My mom really needs me back home"

They had spent most of the day going from bar to bar all over the city trying to locate Chuck. He was not at the Palace bar, not at Victrola, not even at the old bar in Brooklyn where not many people would know to look. They had looked everywhere for him to no avail and now it was getting late. Blair understood Serena's concern. Lily Bass was struggling to keep her head above the water, mourning her late husband and at the same time worrying about the boy she still considered her stepson.

"I guess you are right", she sighed, trying to ignore the strikes of panic rushing through her body. Where the hell was he? She needed to know how he was doing, she needed to hold him and make sure he was alright. At least as alright as he could possibly be.

She could still remember the horrible moment when she had received the news about what had happened to Bart, immediately thinking of Chuck, her heart aching for him. He was just getting to know the father who had been absent from his life for so long. She remembered worrying about his reaction, worrying about him doing what he was obviously doing know – hiding from the world, hiding from her. She had tried talking to him, tried getting him to let her near, to comfort him, BE THERE for him. But he had refused to let her do any of those things.

Chuck Bass had handled the tragic news in the only way he knew, she thought. He had pushed her away, pushed everyone away. Telling her to leave, that he did not want her there, locking himself away in his suite and spending the days before the funeral getting wasted and god-knows-what. She thought back at the funeral. How he'd been standing alone in the crowd, refusing to talk to anyone. But it had been the empty look in his eyes that had scared her the most. More than the drinking or the silence, the memory of his dark eyes looking empty and dead was still haunting her. After the funeral, he had gone off in his limo before she or any of the others managed to get a hold of him, and then simply disappeared from everyone's radar.

The cab came to a halt outside the huge building the Palace Hotel and Blair snapped back to reality, realizing she had lost herself in her thoughts once again. Looking over to her best friend who was preparing to get out of the car she forced a tiny smile.

"Thanks S", she said.

"Try not to worry too much B", Serena answered pushing a blonde strand of hair out of her face, "we will find him, I promise. He has gone awol before you know".

Serena gave her friend a kiss on the cheek and then stepped out of the cab shutting the door behind her. Blair sunk back against the seat, closing her eyes and swallowing hard as a lump formed in her throat and her eyes filled up. Where are you? She thought to herself, where did you go and why didn't you bring me with you?

A single tear falling, making its way down her cheek.

* * *

_Chapter two is on its way..!_


	2. Drown Out The World

_So, here's chapter number two, I'm so glad you guys like it! :) I don't know anything more about what's going to happen on the show, except for the fact that Bart Bass dies. This is all based on an idea I had when I heard about it… Right now it looks as the original one-shoot I had planned will be chapter four (No stopping me now, haha)_

* * *

Serena made her way through the lobby of the hotel, the echo of her heels loud and clear against the marble floor. She was trying to prepare herself for facing her mother. Lily Bass would not handle the news of one more day spent without locating her stepson very well. Cursing at Chuck under her breath she pressed the button of the elevator, why did he have to make everyone so damn worried? Why couldn't he just act like a normal person and be with his family? After all that is what they are right? His family; herself, her mother, Eric, Nate, BLAIR. Thinking of her best friend and her sad, worried expression in the cab Serena let out a sigh of frustration.

"Excuse me, miss van der Woodsen?" It was the hotel manager walking up to her with an apologetic expression on his face. Serena stopped and turned around to face him

"Yes?"

"I know it is not my place miss, but…" His voice trailed off and he shifted his weight looking utterly uncomfortable with the situation

"But what?" Serena snapped, wanting to get facing her mother out of the way.

"It is just that I got a question from the kitchen miss". The man continued; "seems they keep getting orders for room service from room 1812".

"What?" Serena looked at the manager, she couldn't believe what she was being told? Was Chuck in his own suite?

"Orders for what?" She asked the man, sensing that he still had something more to say

"Liqueur, miss van der Woodsen, mostly scotch, whole bottles worth", the man said and then clearing his throat he continued. "I know it is not our place and I am very sorry of you feel I have overstepped my boundaries", he was close to ranting now, "but it is the second bottle ordered today and within mere hours. And given the circumstances…" his voice trailed off once more, not knowing how to complete the sentence.

Serena sighed once more. So they had just spent the entire day looking for him, and Chuck has been in his suite all along knocking down scotch? She was angry now.

"Thank you", she said to the manager still at her side, forcing a smile. "Don't send the last bottle up, I will talk to him". And she would damn well tell him exactly what she thought of him, she thought, dialling Blair's number.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Chuck Bass was sitting on the couch of his suite nursing the last drops of scotch he had been able to drain from the bottled he had ordered earlier. He was drunk – drunk on the verge of passing out – and he intended on staying so. His sight becoming more and more blurred with every sip from the glass. He drank with determination now. Determination not to give in to the feeling of chaos that raged his insides during the few moments too close to sobriety. And after all - he was a Bass – and when a Bass wants something he makes sure he succeeds.

He cherished the burn of the scotch sliding down his throat - slowly building a layer around the pain and panic but still not enough to completely numb the feeling he had been fighting for days. Days – he didn't know what day it was anymore. How long had it been? He frowned, trying to collect himself, but his drunken mind not being able to sort through the shattered memories of the vast amount of bars and bartenders he'd encountered during his attempts to drown out the world.

He downed the last drops of his drink and in the very second he put the glass down on to the now sulky surface of the wooden table, there was a knock on the door.

Perfect timing he thought with and ironic smirk and made an effort to get up from his position on the couch. On his second attempt he finally made it to his feet, holding on to the table to steady himself and cursing as the person at the door knocked once more.

"I am COMING!" He shouted at the door and muttering under his breath he let go of the table and made his way to the door on unsteady legs. Still muttering and cursing he squinted his eyes and managed to grab a hold of the door handle just in time to prevent himself from falling over.

"What took you so damn long, I…" He cursed while opening the door, then stopping at once – all colour draining from his face at the sight of Serena van der Woodsen and Blair Waldorf standing outside his door.


	3. You're A Mess!

_So here's number three. Sorry it took a while! Life keeps getting in the way leaving no time to write. But as I said, here it is, hope you guys like it! PLEASE review, I'm trying to get all my thoughts about this story in order, chapter four will prob be "THE" chapter. Haha, but I'm kinda struggling with it at the moment. So any comments, thoughts or ideas will be really appreciated! I wanna make it believable and I'm not sure I'm quite capturing the characters as it is…But enough ranting from my part…enjoy_

* * *

He barely allowed himself to catch a glimpse of her before diverting his gaze, staring into the lush carpet covering the floor. Cursing himself or ever returning to the suite in the first place after spending nights away. She was so beautiful, he thought - his mind racing - so perfect. How did he ever, if only just for a second or two, imagine that there would be a _someday_ for the two of them? That he deserved a _someday_ with anyone none the less with her? He wasn't worthy of her, of anything, all he did was hurt the people around him. His insides raging he could feel the protective layers of the scotch evaporate.

He knew that she had to leave, right away. He had to get her to leave

"Chuck!" Serena shrieked, interrupting his thoughts by pushing the door open and sending him stumbling back, almost falling over. Without saying anything he shot her a dark look whilst trying to gain back his composure. "What the hell are you doing?" She continued, even more furious at the sight of him. "Look at you! God, you're a mess!"

And Chuck Bass was a mess. His black trousers stained and wrinkled his shirt in the same condition if not worse. It looked to her as if he hadn't showered or gotten any rest in days. Examining him standing in the middle of the room, slightly swaying, eyes still pierced to the floor – she decided that she was probably not far off.

"Where the hell have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you, do you have any idea how worried my mother has been?" Serena continued, remembering her mother's worried expression earlier that day. The same expression Lily Bass had had on her face every day, even since before the funeral. Chuck's way of dealing with what had happened not lost on her.

Serena marched the few feet up to him and showed her finger in his chest causing him to sway even more. As if feeling the need to physically emphasize her words, wanting a reaction out of him. When she got none she showed her finger in his chest once more, harder this time, his chest hurting from where her fingernail landed. This time he looked up and met her stare, his eyes like black ice and his jaw clenched. Forcing himself to look as nonchalant and degrading as he could possibly muster.

"Is that so", he said, his voice reeking with contempt "I was sure she would be busy auditioning for a new husband by now".

Feeling as if his insides were being pierced by tiny needles as he reminded himself of what had happened - but desperately needing her to go away, to disappear and take Blair with her. To make all reminders of what his life had been disappear so that he could breathe again. He might be able to handle Serena and her anger up to a point. But Blair looked too perfect standing in the doorway, too much alive and too much like everything he wasn't.

He did not come close to escaping the palm of Serena's hand when it struck against his cheek. The sound echoing in the luxurious suite. An almost inaudible gasp of shock from Blair, still standing in the doorway watching her best friend and the person that she loved.

"Really, S, slapping? I didn't realize just how much Brooklyn rubbed off on you" He managed to say, ignoring the burning sensation in his cheek and looking at her with a demeaning expression on his face. Trying to sort his dizzy head, trying to come up with something, anything, that would make them leave.

"I just figured you must have learned your frivolous ways from someone" He spat out, praying for his words to do the trick, and in the same time hating himself for saying them.

Once again he didn't stand a chance in escaping her hand as she slapped him again

"You are such an ass, Chuck", she said, looking more sad than angry now, "Do you have any idea…"

Serena wasn't finished but was cut off as he brushed her aside and stumbled into the bathroom. His body finally protesting against the excessive amount of alcohol and the somewhat brutal treatment from Serena - he sunk down on the floor emptying his gut into the white porcelain of the toilet bowl.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*


	4. Whatever

So, here it is! Hope you like it!

**JaneA0202** - I think you'll like the first part ;)

Parts of this chapter is inpsired by a scene from Grey's Anatomy between Alex and Izzie. (s4ep17)

* * *

At first Serena stood where Chuck had left her in the middle of the room. Then with a deep sigh she looked away from where he had disappeared and instead looked over to her best friend still standing in the doorway.

"I am sorry B", she said walking up to her, "I can't believe he…listen… I am just gonna leave, there is no point talking to him when he is like this and despite everything I really need to tell my mom we found him. You coming with me?"

Blair slowly turned her head and met her friend's eyes, a blank expression on her face. And then she shook her head, still not saying a word.

"Okay", Serena said, gently squeezing her friends arm, "call me in a while?" And then she walked out of the room and headed for the elevator.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She didn't know how long she stood where Serena had left her, trying to sort through everything. She didn't waste much energy on the fact that she had been looking for him at 1812 earlier that same day without finding him there, about how worried she had been or about where he had been and whit _whom. _

She stood there trying to come to grips with why seeing him drunk like that sent chills down her spine? She'd seen him drunk off his face many times before; as a matter of fact he was the first person she'd ever seen drunk in the first place.

She could still remember one time, the four of them must have been around fourteen and stopping at her place after a night out. Chuck had been a happy I-love-the-world-drunk for the night – for once carefree and impulsive – having a fantastic time while his less intoxicated friends had all been exhausted. She could still picture Nate trying to drag Chuck into the elevator, struggling with one arm around his friend's waist, while Chuck continued to try and get back into the penthouse, drunkenly persisting on making mac n' cheese. Herself and Serena laughing so hard they had to sit down on the cold marble floor to prevent themselves from falling over – finding the idea of their friend even knowing how to boil water - or actually eating mac n' cheese in the first place - hilarious.

Nate had then finally managed to get his friend into the elevator and with the doors closing she and Serena had caught Chuck's last slurry comment to Nate; "Come on, Nathaniel, who doesn't like cheese?" Causing both her and Serena to collapse on the floor, tears running down their faces from laughing hysterically.

Naturally any mentioning of such a comment from Chuck Bass had been strictly banned from conversations, not to ever be brought up ever again. But still, those had been good times, she thought. It felt like a long time since she had seen a carefree, genuinely smiling – not _smirking_ - Chuck

So it wasn't that she hadn't seen him in various states of drunk and disorderly. It was that she had never seen him like this she realized - never _just_ drunk. Drunk and laughing with Nate, drunk and chatting up some random slut, drunk and heinous - sure, drunk and kissing her... But never just drunk out of his mind with the same empty, dead expression that had been on his face on the day of the funeral.

Disconnected.

She finally moved from the doorway, closing the door before heading for the bathroom where he had disappeared. What she saw when she entered the luxurious bathroom caused her heart to swell. He was slouched over the toilet bowl, head resting on his arm, not as much as moving a muscle when she walked in.

"Chuck?" She called out, her voice sounding not quite like her. There was no answer, no movement. Was he ignoring her? She cleared her throat

"Hey, Bass?" Still not getting a response or a reaction, she crouched down beside him, only to find him out cold.

Just great, she thought, contemplating the idea of trying to wake him up and deciding against it. He looked like he could need the rest. Even in his sleeping state he still looked tense - she could see the muscles in his jaw flexing and the frown on his forehead. She then considered moving him, but decided against that idea even quicker - she new exactly how heavy a not-fully-conscience-Chuck was, him having collapsed on top of her more than once, if not in a more pleasant situation. Not that she had been bothered about the weight then, but she figured it would be a different story this time. Weight lifting not really a pass time she usually indulged in.

So instead she left the bathroom and opted for the big armchair in his bedroom. Curling up in it, resting her head against the soft leather and closing her eyes. Relieved about finally knowing where he was she sat there in the dark room, and waited.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

When he woke up Chuck wasn't quite sure where he was at first. The only thing familiar being the black nothingness in his chest, more prominent now that some effect of the alcohol had wore off. I need a drink, he thought, his throat dry and a bitter taste in his mouth. I need a drink right know. He slowly managed himself onto his feet and leaning against the sink he slowly filled a glass with water and emptied it within seconds. The cold water doing nothing to ease the feeling raging inside of him.

Room service, now.

Knowing there was a phone on the nightstand by his bed he left the bathroom and entered the dark bedroom. Sinking down on the bed he rested his head in his right hand while trying to locate the phone with the other – suddenly groaning out loud from the shots of pain rushing through his head as the room was lit up.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Blair removed her hand from the lamp switch, looking over to his slouched profile sitting on the bed. His head buried in his hands, a muffled groan barely audible. One part of her ecstatic at the sight of him, one part worried wanting nothing else than to hold him close, one part simmering with anger thinking about the past couple of days. The worried part winning the battle between her emotions, she walked up to him and sat down next to him on the smooth satin of the bedspread covering the bed.

Chuck didn't move, didn't speak, didn't acknowledge her presence in any way. So she didn't speak – she sat next to him in silence, her whole body aching to reach out and touch him. Her fingers eventually gave in and she slowly reached out touching the curls at the back of his head. Her heart in her throat as he suddenly jolted and shot to his feet.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

He had known it was her as soon as the pain in his head eased off as his eyes slowly got used to the brightness of the room. Flashes of an angry Serena, Blair standing in the doorway, him being an ass rushing through his head as he remembered what had happened earlier.

Why was she still here? A rush of panic shot through his insides, damnit, he needed that drink. When she sat down beside him he felt as if all oxygen went out of the room, he could sense her next to him, his skin tingling. Looking at her neither necessary nor possible he focused on breathing. One part of him angry with her for still being there, for not leaving. One part in pure panic, feeling as if tiny needles were pricking his insides causing the nothingness in his chest to grow bigger, darker. One part wanting nothing more than to drown out every cohesive thought in his head. When he felt her fingers toughing the back of his head - the needles turning to spears, his breath stuck in his throat as he shot to his feet - the panic winning the battle of _his_ emotions.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She watched him as he threw himself in the direction of the nightstand, grabbing the phone.

"Room service? Scotch…" He was cut off as she hauled herself at the receiver, causing the phone to fall down on the floor and interrupting the call.

"Are you out of you mind?" She hissed, "what the hell do you think you are doing?! You've been passed out for two hours!"

"Whatever" his voice hoarse but still managing to sound slightly annoyed as he stood by the nightstand, eyes on the floor.

_Drunk and annoyed_

She forced herself to try and breathe calmly, anger starting to simmer inside of her, waiting for him to make the next move. To do something, say something, look at her. When he didn't do any of those things, breathing calmly no longer helped.

"Where have you been Chuck?" She asked him, anger in her voice now "Why didn't you tell me where you were? Why didn't you tell your family where you were? God, she sounded like a bitchy girlfriend, she thought, but she didn't care. She wanted answers.

"I don't have a family" He suddenly started to move around the room, looking through clothes scattered across the room, checking the pockets of a jacket with rushed movements.

There, she thought, a real, proper reaction. Even if what he was saying was so far off from reality.

"What about me?" she asked him, less anger in her voice, scared to ask not knowing what he'd answer. Sure he had to know he still had her? That he would always have her?

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Where was it? He searched the room frantically, going through the clothes he had apparently scattered all over the bedroom. Where the hell were his jacket and the bottle he had just remembered leaving in his pocket?

He could hear Blair's question, it echoed in his head as he finally found the black jacket by the dresser and pulled the bottle out of the pocket. He could feel her staring at him, the hairs at the back of his neck tingling, telling him she was waiting for him to respond. To answer her question. What about her? It was all about her, and nothing about her. He couldn't stand having her around, a harsh reminder of everything as it had been. Before everything was destroyed.

Before he destroyed it all.

He took a swig from the bottle, hearing her say something but blocking it out and instead focusing on the burn in his throat as he swallowed. When he spoke his voice was cold.

"Just get out of my room"

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

At first she could hardly believe what she saw, why was the pockets of his 400$ jacket filled with tiny liquor bottles? Then the words he spoke finally sunk in, a lump forming in her throat. Why, after all that they'd been through, did he insist on shutting her out?

"You can't do this anymore Chuck. You have to stop doing this to yourself" Her voice in total lack of anger now – pleading.

"Whatever, just get out of my room" He snapped, taking another swig from the bottle. Still with his back against her she could tell from looking at his shoulders and his back that he was starting to get angry.

"You can't push everyone away, push me away" She ignored the lump in her throat even as it grew bigger at the harsh tone in his voice

"I don't want you here! Just get out of my room!"

_Drunk and angry_

What if he was telling the truth? The thought crossed her mind and she felt as if she'd been slapped across the face. What if he actually didn't want her there, didn't want '_someday_' anymore? Didn't people say that you prioritized differently after loosing someone close to you? What if his father's death had changed his mind, his priorities? Her eyes filled up, the thought too horrible. But then she looked over to him, taking in the shape of his back as he stood leaning against the dresser, the tension in his shoulders. The slow movement as he breathed slowly in and out. And she refused to believe a single word. He was still Chuck, her Chuck, her _someday_. There was no way in hell she'd let him push her away.

"NO" she called out, marching up to him, hand on his shoulder forcing him to turn around.

He shrugged her hand of his shoulder, but remained turned in her direction, eyes still pierced on the floor he stood there in silence.

NO! Not 'whatever', and NO I won't leave!" She continued impatiently, a streak of anger back in her voice. Praying that she knew him just as well as she thought she did, and that she wasn't forcing something on herself that she didn't wish for. That she wasn't making a huge mistake, giving him an opportunity to reject her.

"Would you look at me?!" She spat out, grabbing a hold of his chin, twisting his face, forcing him to look at her. When he finally met her gaze there was a hint of something in his eyes, something she couldn't quite read. She took a breath, and then the rest of her words, the ones still echoing in her head came spilling out; "DON'T YOU GET IT? I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU! I LO…"

"Don't" Breaking free from her grip he stumbled back, turning his back against her and clasping his fingers around the edge of the dresser. She could almost see him shivering.

_Drunk and scared_

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"Don't say anything. Just go, Blair" His time to plead out to _her_. He tried to breathe, tried to stop feeling like he would burst at any second, tried to stop behaving like a deer caught in headlights. Get it together Bass, he thought, get you shit together and get her out of here.

He barely had time to finish his thoughts, all of a sudden she was right by his side again, his breath stuck in his throat. Staring down on his hands; one clasping the dark wood of the dresser, the other hand around an empty crystal carafe. Closing his eyes, focusing solemnly on the cool surface of the glass he slowly exhaled and felt the rushes of panic loose intensity.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She was on the verge of loosing her mind. She was sure of that. Why did he have to be so damn stubborn? He had been there for her so many times throughout the years, he had been there when Nate hadn't, when Serena hadn't. He had fixed her so many times she could hardly keep track, she thought, why was it that he was so determined to shut her out? She was so frustrated she felt like banging his head against the wall, knock some sense into him.

"Would you stop telling me to leave", she hissed. "WHY won't you just let me be here for you?" She grabbed his arm once more, her grip firmer this time, pulling him in her direction. But once again he was stronger than her, and he broke free. But as he did so, he looked up at here, panic in his eyes now.

"Because I can't breathe when you're around!" He spat out in return.

"What? But…why? What are you talking about?" she stuttered, surprised by his words and the look in his eyes.

"Because…" he looked tortured as he lost his words, closing his eyes.

"Because what, Chuck? She asked. She felt as if she was watching a burning fuse waiting for something to explode. And in that instant, he did.

"Because it HURTS!" He cried out and with his fingers still firmly gripping the crystal carafe he smashed it against the dresser. Immediately breaking it, sending millions of tiny pieces flying. The sound of glass breaking echoing in 1812.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

They both stood there – like two statues – frozen. He was the first to move, twisting his hand around, sending more pieces of shattered glass to the floor as they fell off his shirt.

She must have screamed, or was it only in her head? She could feel a burn in her throat, as if she had been screaming at the top of her lungs, but she wasn't sure. She stood there paralyzed just watching him. Until she saw the tiny trickle of red appearing in the palm of his hand.

"Damnit, Chuck!" She cursed, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him across the room. Pushing him down on the side of the bed. "Don't move", looking down on his hand she forces herself to calm down and not go into panic mode. It doesn't look serious, as a matter of fact it looked like barely anything at all, keep it together, Waldorf.

Walking into the bathroom she searched the cabinets until she found some antiseptic and some band aids. When she returned to the bedroom she found him still sitting in the same exact position as she had left him, looking down on the tiny trickle of blood.

"Here"; she said, taking his hand in hers. Scrutinizing it she found three tiny cuts. Cleaning them as carefully as possible before putting a band aid on one that looked bigger than the other two.

When she finished she didn't let go of his hand. Instead she gently stroked his arm, squeezing his fingers with her other hand – careful not to squeeze the band aid or the other cuts.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

When he finally moves again, he tilts his head up and looks at her. His eyes brimming with tears he slides his hand around her neck and kisses her lips. At first she hesitates, confused, but then she starts kissing him back. A warmth in the pit of her stomach, her body reacting the same way it always does when his lips are on hers. But now she can feel them trembling, not from lust but from pain - and she knows she can't go on. She breaks of the kiss.

"Have sex with me…" he whispers, his voice trailing off. And she recognizes his words, he has said them once before in a different time, a different world. "…please"

He kisses her again – frenetically - she falls back on the bed, his body covering hers. She can feel his entire body trembling now and with her heart aching for him she ends the kiss once more.

"Please..." He is begging now. A single tear landing on her collarbone as he bows his head down. Drawing in a ragged breath. She kisses the top of his head tenderly.

It is almost as if she can hear something break inside of him as he finally gives in to the feelings he has been fighting for so long. As he finally allows himself to feel. Sobs shaking his body he on to her as if he was drowning, his grip on the verge of hurting as he cries

Her own eyes filling up she draws him closer. One arm around his waist, one hand clutched in his hair. Her cheek against his. Closer until she can hardly tell the difference between their bodies.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She doesn't know how much passes by, but slowly the sobs die off, his breathing evens out and he falls asleep. Exhausted from it all. His head resting on her arm – for once not the other way around – one arm across her frame, their legs entwined.

So she lays there, exhausted as well, but happy in the way she's only when he is around. Running her fingers along his jaw line, through his hair, using her fingers to gently erase the frown still on his forehead even as he sleeps. Then she reaches across his sleeping form, pulling the covers of the bed over them, creating a cocoon to keep them safe. And then she falls asleep as well, listening to the sound of his breathing.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

* * *

_Well..I'm a sucker for a "3B"...bad-boy-breakdown. Comments will make me happyhappyhappy!_


	5. Someday

_So here it is, the morning after! And it's heavy fluff my friends, so if you don't like drowning in C/B-fluff. Don't read, Im serious, haha. After spending some time finishing it this afternoon, I kinda feel like writing a horror story or something... But after all - fluff is what this story is all about after all - so I guess this chapter is exactly how it should be...but I might have to stirr things up in the next one... ;)_

_Reference to the last episode included, and the song is Storm by Lifehouse_

_Still, I own nothing, hope you like it!_

* * *

"_How long have I been in this storm?_

_So overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form_

_Water's getting harder to tread_

_With these waves crashing over my head"_

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

When he wakes up he is alone. Barely conscious he reaches out for her, finding nothing more than empty, cool satin next to him on the bed. He is suddenly wide awake and opens his eyes, only to realize something else; his head is killing him. A slow groan escaping his mouth he buries his head in the pillow trying to shut out the light coming from the window. He feels as if he has been run over by truck and then fed to stray dogs.

The thought of never looking at a tumbler of scotch again crosses his mind but he pushes it away. He is still Chuck Bass and while he could say he will never drink again, he really doesn't believe in lying when it comes to things that actually matter. Lying while scheming is one thing, lying about alcohol is a whole other story. But as the flashes of pain running through his head die off - only to settle in a dull ache - there is really only one thing on mind;

_Where is she?_

He is well aware that her leaving was exactly what he was aiming for last night. But he just didn't want to postpone the inevitable. People always leave; and he is always the reason that they do. That is the kind of person that he is. He fucked it up last night, just like he knew he would – like he always does. The last words his father spoke to him before leaving for Miami suddenly clear in his head; "_Every time I think we're making progress, you show your true colours."_

He can feel the panic rising, swirling around his gut, the needles returning. Pricking and poking at his insides. His breath strained as he tries to keep his head above the surface but still finding it too hard. He feels as if he is sinking, slipping back into the nothingness of the past days. The grief and the pain too much and too heavy to bear.

Feeling a sudden need to get out of the room, he sits up in the bed, swinging his feet down on the floor. Strokes of pain shooting through his head he stops, resting his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. Trying to inhale calmly, trying to convince his body that there is no way he wiill allow himself to be sick again, trying to get his act together so that he can get on with the breakings of non spoken promises.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Walking through the door she stops as she sees him sitting on the bed, his back towards her. A flutter in her heart at the sight of him, a smile on her lips. You are the best thing in my life Chuck Bass, she thinks to herself.

He looks broken as he sits on the bed – like the shattered carafe she was sweeping off the floor earlier - running his fingers through his dishevelled hair, rubbing his face. Still – broken or not – he's the best thing in her life and she is determined to fix him.

I will glue you back together.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She is back.

He can sense her presence - as always – and turns around to look at her. She is standing in the door way, still dressed in the same outfit she wore yesterday. Her skirt a little wrinkled, her hair messed up. God, she is so beautiful, she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.

And he needs to leave.

As he jumps to his feet another flash of pain shots through his head, causing him to wince. His hands with a firm grip of his head - as if to keep it from falling of - he is once again forced to concentrate solemnly on not throwing up.

She is the first one to speak;

"Hey" she says, soft voice, a smile on her lips. "You are up, it is still early."

"Well…I...uhm.." He clears his throat "I…I thought you had left"

To his surprise the feelings that just moments ago had him running towards the nearest bottle, now has him frozen on the spot wanting nothing more than to hold on to her and never let go. Wanting her to make it all go away.

"What? No, I just went to get you this" She looks surprised, showing him the water bottle she is holding in her left hand. "And these" Reaching in to the pocket of her skirt she shows him two white pills. Aspirin.

"Figured you might need these when you woke up."

She walks up to him and hands him the bottle and the pills, watching him as he downs them, emptying half the bottle of water in the process.

"It is nice seeing you drinking water for a change"

A sting of guilt accompanies the nothingness in his chest. Knowing that he had her worried, telling her all that horrible crap about not wanting her there…trying to force himself on her for God's sake, only to break down like a sobbing fool in the next second. He knows he fucked it all up. Swallowing hard, he looks into her eyes, searching for the right words. Because this time he knows it can't be snide remarks, or witty banter between them. This time he believes that he needs to apologize and make her stay because he needs her there.

"Listen…Blair" He starts off, but she cuts him off.

"You really don't have to say anything, Chuck" She says, and he is surprised at first, momentarily stunned. But he still knows that he does need to say something, and all of a sudden his head is filled with words. Important words that he can't hold back.

"No, really, listen. I am sorry. I am so sorry" He blurts out "I am such an ass, I fucked everything up…I can't believe you didn't tell me to go to hell. That you didn't just…give up"

"You weren't 'fucking' things up…you were hurting" She looks at him, a sad smirk on her face. "And I don't think you were far off from there to begin with."

"Besides" and he can see a hint of a smile in her eyes now. "Someone once told me about the importance of perseverance..." She pauses and he can tell that she is waiting for him to catch on to what she is saying as she quotes his best man's speech from his father's wedding. "…that in the face of true love you don't just give up – even if the object of your affection is begging you to."

The smile in her eyes reaching her lips, "You're stuck with me Bass"

And in that second it all comes rushing back to him - all that only hours ago seemed to belong to a different lifetime. And he knows that he needs to tell her. Needs to finally put into words what they have already acknowledged. He knows that he wants to give her those words in return for what she has done for him. How she has saved him, how she is saving him. But mostly because they are the truth.

Three words, eight letters

"I love you"

She is in his arms before he knows it and he clings to her once again. Feeling the nothingness inside of him filling up with the scent of her and the feel of her arms around him. After some time they climb back into bed, and still in a tight embrace they fall asleep again as the snow starts falling outside the window.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She wakes up before him once more. Laying beside him watching him sleep, trailing his features with her fingers. Careful not to wake him, but still a part of her wanting him to open his eyes and look at her. God, she could spend the rest of her life in this bed as long as he was there beside her, looking at her.

A part of her feels like she shouldn't be this happy right now, that it is hardly appropriate being this on-top-of-the-world-happy when it hasn't been a week since the funeral. But she is, and she's praying she will always be.

Suddenly she can feel him stirring, a faint flutter under his closed eyelids as he draws her closer to him. Then he opens his eyes, brown eyes meeting brown eyes, and she knows that no matter how wrong it may be – she is happier in this second than she has ever been in her life.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

When he wakes up again, he already know he is not alone. Because for the first time in days, he doesn't wake up wanting nothing more than to fall back into unconsciousness, to be numb.

Because this time he wakes up to the feeling of her fingers against his skin and he doesn't need to reach out for her because she is already in his arms.

Because this time he wakes up feeling like nothing more than a boy in love with the girl of his dreams.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"_If I could just see you  
Everything would be all right  
If I'd see you  
This darkness would turn to light  
_

__

And I will walk on water  
And you will catch me if I fall  
And I will get lost into your eyes  
And everything will be alright  
I know everything will be alright

_"_

* * *

_Let me know what you think! I have at least one more chapter planned... ;)_


	6. Mac 'n Cheese

_Okay, so honestly. I can't stay away from the fluff! But I guess I'll have to stop tormenting the poor boy soon ;)_

_And I have to say...after watching 2.13 this afternoon (living in the cw-forsaken country of sweden=having to wait an extra day..)...I l.o.v.e.d it....and OMG! haha, am I psychic? ;)_

_I don't know much about panic disorder or anxiety attacks, and I'm def not a doctor, it's called google. I hope I got it right enough_

_italics are flashbacks/thoughts. there are some references to 2.13 (happily picking and choosing after my own liking) and to my earlier chapters_

* * *

(…_Suddenly she can feel him stirring, a faint flutter under his closed eyelids as he draws her closer to him. Then he opens his eyes, brown eyes meeting brown eyes, and she knows that no matter how wrong it may be – she's happier in this second than she's ever been in her life_…)

"Hey" She tries her best to wipe the silly lovesick smile off her face, but fail miserably.

Looking into his eyes trying to pick up on how he is feeling, what he is feeling. She can still see the sadness and the grief, but happily notices that there is also something else there - something brighter - and it makes her smile even bigger

"How's the head?" She asks him, her fingers trailing his forehead

"In one piece" He answers after a moment's thought, rubbing his face with his hand.

He slowly moves onto his back so that she is resting on his arm. His fingers brushing alongside her arm causing the tiny hairs on her arm to stand on end. And she is amazed how such a light touch can instantly have her full attention, craving more. Desperately trying to remember how he hass just lost his father when her skin starts to burn from the contact with his fingertips.

But he doesn't seem to notice. Normally he would be able to tell what kind of impact he is having on her, a smug, confident smirk on his face as he would tilt his head down and cover her mouth with his, his hands..

"I need a shower" He says, interrupting her thoughts, forcing her back to reality. A reality that - she tries to remember herself - is not about all the million things she can imagine him doing to her in this very bed. That is not why she is here, that is not what he needs. No matter how utterly weird a thought like that might have been, given other circumstances.

"Okay" Suddenly realizing she's famished, she continues; "You hungry? I could order some food from the kitchen"

"I'm starving" He says, sounding almost surprised. As if he's been in hibernation for months and in the meantime forgetting what it feels like to be hungry.

"What would you like?"

"Whatever you want.." He answers absently, lost in thought, before getting on his feet and heading for the bathroom. When he reaches the door he turns around looking at her. An expression on his face she can't quite read.

"What?" She's suddenly missing the dance of his fingers, the warmth of his body next to hers.

A hint of a smirk in his eyes that doesn't fully reach his lips as he looks back at her.

"Nothing, Waldorf…just…never mind" And with that said he walks into the bathroom, leaving her puzzled.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

His head still pounding a little as he examines himself in the mirror. Not exactly Prince Charming, Bass. He thinks to himself, wincing at the sight of his appearance reflecting in the shiny surface. Turning away to spare himself the sorry sight he reaches down to the buttons of his once clean and neatly ironed shirt. When his fingers come in contact with the plastic of the first button an image comes rushing through his head, stopping him in his tracks as he remembers the last time he stood in the exact same spot, buttoning this very shirt.

_He'd been hung over the__n as well. Hung over, drunk and his head filled with dark thoughts. Standing in front of the mirror, trying to button the stupid shirt, not wanting to succeed since that would make him ready to leave the suite. Ready to leave for his father's funeral. _

_Then the __funeral and the reception; all the people, his friend's worried expressions, the black nothing in his chest and the throbbing pain in his head. He had fucked that up too, and then storming off in a panic mode, not able to stand one more second of it all. Ignoring Blair calling out his name. Running after him as he left her and what was left of his life behind - continuing his attempts to drown out the world_

The memories hit him in full force, and he is shocked at the power of which the feelings come rushing back, swirling in the pit of his stomach. His breath catching in his throat he can feel his heart racing a mile a minute. He tries not to panic but when he can't get rid of the feeling that he is drowning he can't fight the panic off anymore. When the room starts spinning he backs up against the wall, sinking down on to the floor. A trickle of cold sweat down his back.

_I__ think I'm dying._

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

After phoning down to the kitchen she spends some time tidying up around the suite, humming some silly song while emptying ashtrays and removing used glasses from the table and the bar.

When she is finished she heads for the bathroom, feeling a little stupid for checking up on him like a worried mother would on her baby. Maybe she has a maternal bone in her body after all - hearing Nate's words from the reception in the back of her head she smiles as she calls out for him;

"Chuck? I ordered some food, it should be here any…" As she walks into the bathroom she stops at the sight of him. The smile disappearing from her face as she sees him sitting on the floor, still fully dressed. His face is pale as a sheet as he sits staring blankly ahead of him. His arms resting on his bended knees. If she couldn't see his chest moving she would most likely have believed he was dead.

"Chuck!" She throws herself down on the floor so that she is kneeling by his side. "What is wrong? What happened? Are you hurt? Questions come spilling out of her mouth, hot tears starting to burn the corners of her eyes. His eyes back to empty, the hint of a smirk nonexistent.

As she reaches out to grab a hold of his cool hands he snaps out of his trance and looks at her, his eyes shiny. Exhaling unevenly he opens his mouth;

"I just…I" He stutters, looking so lost, so confused it breaks her heart. "I just couldn't take it off" He continues, clearing his throat. "I couldn't breathe…I think…you..." His voice trails off and he lets out another ragged breath.

She positions herself next to him on the floor, slinging her arm around him, trying to stop the tears welling up in her eyes from falling. Wanting to be strong for him but completely overwhelmed by the look on his face.

"It is okay, I am right here" She continues as he buries his face in the crock of her neck, making it impossible for her to longer prevent the tears from slowly sliding down her cheeks.

They sit next to each other on the floor until his breath is once again even and she can feel him starting to relax. She then gets up on her feet and pulls him up with her. Rubbing her hands up and down his arms reassuringly before reaching into the shower, getting the water running, never letting go of his hand in the process.

With her eyes fixed on his she slowly starts unbuttoning his soiled shirt. Tossing it aside she continues with his pants, unbuckling the belt before reaching for the button underneath. He then carries on undressing himself, his movements slow like an old man's. She stands by in silence, watching him, making sure he is okay. As he steps into the shower she picks up his clothes and after emptying his pockets and removing the belt she throws them in the bin.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Feeling as if the hot water is washing away the last remaining streaks of panic and the cold shivers he stands there - his head resting against the tiles – until the thought of exiting the glass walls no longer seem like an impossible task. Slowly towelling himself dry before putting on some clean clothes. Taking his time. Even so, he still has to stop and breathe for a second before leaving the room.

Finding Blair in the living room, just about to lift platters of food onto the dinner table at the end of the room.

Walking up to her, embracing her from behind as he reaches out to take the lid off the canteen. A huff escaping his mouth as he sees the mixture of cheese and pasta, causing her to laugh and turn around in his arms, facing him.

"Come on, Bass, don't tell me you don't like cheese" She laughs tilting her head to the side, her eyes sparkling. "Who doesn't like cheese?"

"We've been over this Waldorf" he snorts. "If you can't remember saying it, you never did."

But she looks so beautiful, and he's not really upset, how could he be? A smile on his lips for the first time in what feels like forever.

"But I do like cheese."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

They spend the rest of the day curled up together in 1812 as the snow keeps falling outside the window. Covering the UES in white, Christmas just around the corner. He's still exhausted from his trials and they soon end up back in bed where he falls asleep within seconds. Her back against his chest, his arm slung over her frame. Fingers entwined.

Chuck and Blair holding hands.

* * *

_There will be more..._


	7. Those Three Words part I

_First of all; thank you sooo much for all your comments and reviews!!! You make my day! Honestly! I would have stopped writing long ago if it wasn't for you guys! This was supposed to be a one-shot after all... ;)_

_But here it is, chapter seven! Next one is on its way, I'm hoping I'll be able to finish it before monday._

* * *

I've never been this hung over in my life. The thought is the first that crosses his mind as he wakes up. He is in a miserable state; head pounding, his whole body aching. Stumbling into the bathroom, just managing to reach the toilet in time before he throws up.

He has no idea how he ended up in this condition. Racking his brains, trying to remember something – anything - about the events that brought him here. That; and the vast amount of alcohol he must have consumed to feel this way.

Finding it impossible - and feeling like he is about to pass out any minute - he somehow manages to get back on his feet and back into the bedroom.

That is when he notices her sleeping form under the covers, only a smooth leg visible between the rumpled sheets. Still unable to recall anything from last night he calls out for her – his voice hoarse from throwing up.

"Hey, Waldorf?" When he doesn't get a response he tugs at her leg impatiently, needing her to wake up and tell him. Wondering if she is in the same condition that he is.

When did they change from eating mac n' cheese and sleeping in the same bed fully clothed, to waking up with the hang over from hell with very little clothing? Actually – make that no clothing. Did he freak out again? Ha he lost his mind?

"Waldorf!?" He snaps. Desperately needing her to wake up and explain everything to him.

When he still doesn't get a response he grabs a hold of the sheets and drags them off her with a quick, jerky movement of his arm. What he sees causes his heart to stop.

Because the girl in his bed is not Blair.

Staring disbelievingly down on the blonde in his bed as she is stretching her body in front of him, yawning with a big grin on her face as she turns to look at him – he truly believes he has indeed lost his mind.

The blonde looks at him, a smug smile on her face as she slides her hand up his thigh. Her fingernails scratching his skin.

"Hey baby" She purrs, her hand still moving up his thigh. "Ready for a second go?"

As her fingers advance too close to their designated stop he finally reacts, jumping to his feet, desperately searching the room for his clothes.

"What happened?" He spits out, turning his eyes away from her naked form as she sits up in bed a confident expression on her face. Not wanting to look at her for another second.

"Oh come on, baby. Why the rush?" She says as he finds his clothes in a heap on the floor.

Her hand brushing through her golden locks she gets on her feet and walks up to him. Hips swaying, still that confident, smug smile on her lips.

"You were not in a rush last night…at least not after getting my dress off." She smirks, her hands sliding up his back reaching his neck before he pulls away. Buttoning his shirt rapidly and pulling on his pants.

"Get out!" He hisses between gritted teeth.

What has he done? His head is pounding violently. Flashes of pain shooting through his body as he slowly exhales. Forcing himself not to be sick again.

"But baby" She pouts as she lies back down on the bed, arranging her body in an obvious invitation to him.

"You know what, fuck it." He snaps, to stressed out to deal with the blonde mess in his bed.

Needing to get out of the room, needing time to collect his shattered mind. Snatching his phone from the dresser he rushes out of the room with only one thing echoing in his head, causing his heart to tremble; I fucked it up.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

As he rushes through the lavish lobby of the Palace he is suddenly frozen to the ground as he sees Eric walking in his direction, heading for the elevators. He is carrying a bag and behind him is one of the porters of the hotel wheeling some more pieces of luggage.

Staring at him Chuck notices that he actually looks some-what less sad than the last time he saw him, but that is only until the younger boy lifts his head and spots him standing there. If looks could kill he would at least be hospitalized and in a serious coma.

"Eric...listen." He says, for once the one to speak first but finding it hard. A lump in his throat as his words from the reception comes spilling back in his head. He can not believe he said those things to Eric. He of all people does not deserve shit like that.

"What do you want, Chuck?" Eric says, his voice reeking of contempt. Eyeing him down in a way not very different from the look that Serena gave him a few days ago. For a moment thinking how much alike the two siblings look sometimes.

He doesn't resemble them at all.

"I really need to talk to you…" He pleads, swallowing hard, feeling both embarrassed and ashamed.

"You know what; I do not want to hear it! Eric cuts him off, anger and hurt visible in his eyes.

"I have just spent the most part of my Christmas vacation in the Bahamas, picking up the pieces of my mother. I really don't want to waste the rest of it on you. You're not my brother, remember?"

The words cut deep as he gets his own hurtful comment thrown back in his face. He said so many things that day that he wished he could take back, did so many things he wished he could undo. And part from leaving Blair behind, hurting Eric is what he regrets the most.

He had never had a family until his father married Lily, and Eric was definitely the best part of that union. He has never had someone actually look up to him until Eric came along. Someone genuinely wanting to be his friend without thinking about the benefits of rich friends in high places. But then there was Eric - actually wanting to get to know him. Wanting to be his brother. And that was exactly what Chuck had been starting to consider him, until everything fell apart.

And now he wants to fix it so badly. Wants to make it right. But he needs to find Blair first; he needs to know what happened.

Then – suddenly – something Eric said pops back into his mind.

"Christmas vacation?" He blurts out, completely flabbergasted.

"Yes, Chuck, are you tripping?" Contempt still clear in his voice Eric continues; "Christmas! The holiday that most people - that does not spend their days drinking - celebrate. And the vacation is for people that actually attend high school, which you would know nothing about."

And if he believed earlier that he was loosing his mind. He is now sure of it. How did he go from sitting in the bathroom trying to breathe, feeling like he was dying – to completely blank out and have no memory of the last weeks?

And in that second he knows that something is very, very wrong.

"You know what, I am not gonna waste my time on you anymore. I don't care, you are not worth it." Eric snaps, and with those words said the younger boy walks away. And Chuck knows that he is absolutely right.

He is not worth it.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

He arrives outside Blair's building. His insides raging with fear and confusion as he rushes past the concierge. Ignoring the man's call as he takes the elevator to her floor. As he enters the seemingly empty apartment moments later he shouts her name.

It echoes in the stairway as he runs up the flight of stairs, nearly falling over as he manages to avoid crashing right in to Dorota that is standing on the top of the stairs. An unwelcoming look in her eyes as she stands between him and the door to Blair's room holding a pile of towels.

"Go home, Mister Chuck" She says, with a stern voice. Her entire being signalling hatred and the same contempt that was earlier visible in Eric's eyes.

"But, I need to see Blair" He is desperate now.

"Miss Blair doesn't want you here, you have to leave."

"But…"

"No, you have to leave Mister Chuck." She repeats, and with one more hateful look she continues. "You ca not hurt her again. I will not let you! She has been through enough with you."

And when he hears those words it is as if he looses the final fraction of sanity. He pushes past her abruptly. Ignoring her shouting after him as he rushes into Blair's bedroom.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Her room is dark, only lit up by the lights out on the streets that are seeping through her closed curtains. He can see her on the bed, her back against him. She pays no attention to him as he walks up to her.

"Blair?" His voice is softer now, some of the panic and desperation washed away by seeing her there.

When he gets no response he flicks the lamp switch of the lamp on her bedside table. The light shining on her silhouette. She still doesn't move as he sits down on the bed besides her. Gently squeezing her arm he can feel goose bumps on her skin. Turning around to see if there's a blanket around somewhere for him to cover her with.

And that's when he spots the box of pills next to the lamp on the table. Feeling as if all air is being sucked out of his chest when he sees how few the pills remaining are.

"Blair?" He says her name again – worried once again - turning her around so that she is on her back, facing him.

She is so pale lying there with her eyes closed. Traces of tears still visible on her cheeks. When she still doesn't respond he panics, shaking her violently.

"Fuck! Blair? Open your eyes! Come on sweetie, open your eyes for me!" He shakes her again and then backs off in a panic, clutching his head, pulling at his messed up hair. Tears burning in the corners of his eyes.

This can not be happening.

Calling out for Dorota he then continues to shake her, tapping her cheek, calling out her name time after time.

"Come on, Waldorf, do not do this..." His voice trails off, his hands letting go of her shoulders.

He can feel the tears pouring down his cheeks now. But then desperation grabs a hold of him, a rush of energy in his body and he shakes her desperately, screaming at her unconscious form;

"BLAIR!"

Her eyes then flutters open and she looks at him through half-closed eyes. And it is like a thin veil is covering her brown eyes, a light frown on her forehead. But in that moment he is so relieved and so happy he barely notices.

"Blair, shit, what did you do?" He blurts out, stroking her face before turning around to see if Dorota is there yet. But there is still no sign of her and he turns his attention back to Blair. As he looks down on her once again she opens her mouth to speak;

"You.." She whispers, barely audible. And her eyes are cold as ice and barely able to focus on his face. Her lips curled in distaste.

And he is stunned by the look in her eyes. Scared by seeing them so un-focused. Knowing deep down that he must have done something terrible to have her looking at him like that. Infuriated by not remembering any of it.

And if he believed that he was completely broken before, he realizes just how wrong he was as she continues

"You did this to me…I hate you…"

And he knows that she is right. That he is the one to blame for this, for everything. But knowing that doesn't keep his heart from crumbling as she utters those three words that are so different from the ones he has got safely locked up inside.

She hates him, and he deserves it.

"You killed me" She whispers before her eyes shut again, a tear falling down her cheek.

And it is as if he can hear something inside him break. And he is screaming her name as her breaths become more and more strained - the tears still pouring down his face as he takes her in his arms, screaming at her to open her eyes, that he is so sorry. That he never meant to hurt her.

But all he can do is listen to her last ragged breaths before she goes limp in his arms. Feel her racing heart stop moving against his chest.

And then he knows what it feels like to be completely and utterly broken beyond repair as he falls into the back nothingness - drowning in it – feeling it washing over his head, shredding the last remaining piece of his soul into splinters as he's falling, and falling

…and falling.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

_Chuck?_

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*


	8. Those Three Words part II

_Okay, so I totally didn't mean to freak you guys out THAT much!!! Pls don't hate me! I would never kill Blair!_

_Should probably have done the whole thing in italics, but I hate reading them myself so I decided against it...and that might have been too obvious ;) _

_Still, I own nothing. The song is the Goo Goo Dolls - "Stay With You". It's just awsome_

_Aaand. a lil warning for sexual content (I'm way out of my own comfort zone. haha)_

* * *

It is still in the middle of the night and the room is dark. He tossing and turning is what wakes her up. An elbow in her ribs as he flips around violently, mumbling something she can't quite hear. Stroking his cheek, trying to soothe him, but it doesn't work.

When she realizes that the barely there mumbles is in fact him saying her name, she nudges him carefully. Trying to wake him up and end his distress.

"Chuck?" She whispers, leaning over him, nudging his shoulder again. "Chuck? Wake up; it is okay."

"Blair?" He is still sleeping, his voice a higher pitch now. A frown on his forehead, grabbing a hold of her arm. He seems even more troubled now so she shoves him again, harder.

"Chuck!" Louder this time.

It is only good reflexes on her side that keep their heads from crashing together as he wakes up - sitting up abruptly. Gasping for breath. Still holding on to her arm for dear life.

She nuzzles closer behind him putting her other arm around him, her chin leaning against his heaving shoulder. She can feel his heart beating furiously in his chest.

"You were dreaming, it is okay" She whispers soothingly in his ear. Her arm stroking up and down his chest trying to calm him down. "I am right here."

And then it is her heart that misses a beat when he suddenly leaps to his feet, struggling to keep his balance as he is tangled in the sheets. Kicking frantically to free himself before succeeding and regaining his balance. Pulling himself away from her, stumbling in the direction of the armchair in the corner - sitting down. His elbows resting on his knees as he sits there holding his head in his hands. Still trying to catch his breath.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

It takes him a few seconds to realize it was all a dream. To come back to this world, feeling her arms around him as he sits there gasping for breath. Hearing her whisper softly in his ear; 'I am right here' the nightmare comes rushing back to him, and in that second he is terrified once again.

Because he knows that even though the horrible tevents he just suffered through were all a dream – they are still the truth.

He will fuck this up; he is his father's son. He will destroy any fraction of a good thing in his life, in her, even thought she has so much of it. He doesn't deserve her - he doesn't even come close to deserving her.

And most importantly - she is not safe around him. Everyone he loves - or could have loved – all end up dead. And with a hint of the excruciating feeling from his dream still echoing in his chest, he knows that she is the only good thing left in his life and he needs her safe. Even if it means far away from him, his heart cringing at the thought of it.

"Why?" The question is out there before he manages to stop himself from asking it.

"What? What do you mean 'why'?" She says and he can hear the confusion in her voice.

"Why are you here, Blair?"

There is no answer from her and so he looks up. She is sitting on the bed, wearing the pyjama shirt that goes with the bottoms he is wearing himself, looking straight at him with a puzzled look on her face.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She is sitting there, wondering what he has been through in his dreams causing him to lash out at her like this. What happened there that has him once again trying to push her away?

Normal everyday Blair would be furious right now, throwing his question back in his face. Asking him what the hell is wrong with him. But not today, not this time. This time she doesn't quite know what to say. So instead she just sits there and waits for him to get it all off his chest. Sensing that there is still more to come.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Getting no response he starts moving impatiently around in the room. Waiting for her answer, steaming of annoyance, as she just sits there silently. Watching him as he paces back and forth.

"Would you say something?!" he finally snaps.

And when she finally opens her mouth, the words are not what he was expecting as she asks him;

"Do you want me here, Chuck?"

"That has nothing to do with it! Would you just answer the question?" He growls, shooting her a cold look.

And when he glances over to her, she is looking at him with a patient expression on her face, making him feel even more annoyed. Needing her to say something in response.

"You shouldn't be here, can't you see? Nothing good can come from this" He blurts "I am poison! Everyone dies, Blair, everyone! Because of me…"

He can feel tears burning in the corners of his eyes as he slumps back into the armchair. He is just so tired. Tired down to the bone. And he doesn't have the strength to fight her. Doesn't have the strength to tell her horrible things, scream and shout. Doesn't have the strength to do whatever it takes to make her leave.

So instead he offers her his truth – plain and simple. Hoping and praying that she will know what is best for her and leave him. Not allow him to drag her with him as he falls.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She walks up to him as he sits in the armchair, pressing his thumb and index finger against the inside corners of his eyes. The sound of her feet muffled against the carpet. She can tell that he is both confused and completely exhausted.

"I can't hurt you too" his voice is strained, barely there. "I just…can't. My father…everything. It is my fault. I will destroy this, us, I will hurt you. That is who I am."

And her heart is once again aching for him and she racks her brains for the right things to say and a way to say them that will make him understand just how wrong he is. But there is no lavish way, no pretty words. Just the truth

"It is not you fault" She says. He frowns at the sound of her words, inching his body away from her as she is standing there in front of him. But she won't give up, not this time, not ever. So she continues, not giving him the chance to protest;

"It is not your fault, Chuck! You are not that person you believe you are. I know you." She says persistently. Putting as much force into her words as possible.

"It was an accident, accidents happen! And I know that it is horrible, and unfair - and that it hurts so badly it makes you feel like you are dying on the inside." She can tell that she is close to ranting but she can't stop the words from pouring out. He needs to hear this, she knows that, and she will tell him over and over again if necessary.

"But it isn't your fault. None of it, and I know you don't believe me when I tell you that it isn't, but I am right!"

He shoots her a look telling her that – as she said - he doesn't. But she can also see a hint of doubt and hesitation in his eyes. See him wanting to believe what she is saying but finding it impossible.

"I know you don't believe me now but you will. Things will change and you will believe me. _Someday_", she says taking his face between her hands, everything she needs to tell him not yet said.

"_Someday_. And I will wait for you until that day, and if you run from me I will chase after you and run with you. Because…"

She stops, looking into his eyes, reduced to dark pools of sadness and resignation. Hoping that he won't cut her off this time. That he will allow her to say those words – _her truth. _Because in all honesty she is tired too, and she doesn't want to chase after him, she wants him to stay right where he is, right here with her.

She wants him to stay where he belongs.

"…Because I love you…and there is nothing you can do to me that will hurt me more than leaving me. Telling me you don't want me anymore." She continues, studying his features hesitantly, waiting for her words to sink in.

"So I am gonna ask you again." She fixates his eyes with hers. Her heart beating violently in her chest. A rush of fear shooting down her spine as she speaks again;

"Do you want me here, Chuck? Do you want _me_?

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Just like the last time he knows what she is about to say, he can tell from the look in her eyes. But this time he doesn't panic and shout at her to make her stop. This time there is something inside of him causing him to stay still, holding his breath as she tells him those three words that no one has ever said to him before. The ones that he still doesn't fully believe that he deserves.

But as she says those very words he can feel his heart crushing against the walls of his chest and he knows that he can't run from her. And that even if he did she would still be what his world revolved around.

He can't speak. Doesn't know how to put these feelings into words. Too scared to choose the wrong ones and mess it all up.

So instead he reaches out for her, his fingers grasping her wrists, pulling her towards him. A little shocked at first when she doesn't curl up in his lap but puts one knee on each side of his legs, straddling him. Her arms sliding around his neck before she leans in. Her soft lips brushing against his,

He sits there as if paralyzed at first while she moves her attention to his neck. Her lips brushing against his skin sending electric shocks down his spine. Suddenly regaining mobility as her teeth scrapes over the sensitive skin causing him to groan. A fire starting to light up inside of him as she kisses his lips again, pressing her curves against his body.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She can feel him tense up – hesitantly – but then smiles against his neck when she hears the groan escaping his mouth. Kissing him again she can feel him starting to return the kiss. Cautiously at first but then deepening it, his hands brushing up her sides underneath the navy silk of the shirt. And the smile on her lips is replaced with a gasp as he cups her breasts, his thumbs stroking, sending shivers through her body.

Pushing herself further against him, grinding her hips and feeling him tremble. The fire inside of them both intensifying she breaks off the kiss and looks at him, his eyes filled with the same desire she knows must be present in her own as she leans in whispering in his ear;

"Bed, now"

She can feel him smiling against her mouth as he covers it with his once again. And without letting go of her he gets on his feet. Her legs around his waist as he stumbles over to the bed and lay her down onto the sheets with him on top of her. It has been so long since she has felt his hands roaming freely over her body, him pressing against her thigh.

She is relishing in the sensation of his lips on her burning skin as she finds herself thinking that it is different from before somehow – that it is as if every tough and every kiss is laced with something more. That is what she is thinking, until his fingers are replaced by his tongue pushing any cohesive thought out of her head.

__

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

_I'll stay with you_

_The walls will fall before we do_

_Take my hand now_

_We'll run forever_

_I can feel the storm inside you_

_I'll stay with you_

* * *


	9. GI Jane

_First of all, I'm sorry it took so long! I've suffered from severe writer's block when it comes to this story...but I think I'm back on track now! (in the meantime I got this other story off my chest..so, no more excuses not to write on this one! check it out...id:4726300 "Who We Are")_

_Anyways, this chapter is kinda short.. I'm h__oping__ I'll be able to post the next one before x-mas!_

* * *

A fire blazing freely to settle in a quiet glow. Lying between rumpled sheets, as close to one another as possible. Two hearts beating in unison.

When her phone beeps loudly they both jump. Reaching out for it she can feel him stir, his hand moving down her back, sending tingles down her spine.

"Who is it?" He murmurs, his hand sliding further down making it hard for her to concentrate on both reading and giving him an answer.

"Serena, texting about brunch" She can feel his hand come to a stop, feel him tense up at the mentioning of her blonde best friend. Typing a quick reply before putting the phone back on the bedside table.

"What did you answer?" Hesitation in his voice.

Turning around to face him, placing her head on his arm she looks at him, offering him a reassuring smile.

"I told her I am not leaving this suite." She smiles, her hand's turn to slide over his body, as she inches closer. Lips just about to brush against lips, when she suddenly stops.

"I need a shower" She states, laughing on the inside at her own personal payback as she leaves the bed. Then laughing out loud at the expression on his face, casting him a smug glance before strolling into the bathroom. Hearing him push the sheets away and following after her.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

He had completely forgotten about Serena, forgotten about the world outside of 1812. The world where he is still the same asshole who just disappeared.

And he can not help but freeze when the idea of her leaving the suite crosses his mind. Knowing that he is being ridiculous and a baby but still not able not to, still feeling the need to have her nearby.

So when she turns around and tells him that she is not leaving for brunch he almost sighs with relief, but is soon occupying other thoughts as her hand slides down his chest. A devilish smile on her face as her face inches closer to his.

When she suddenly speaks he almost jumps, then puzzled as she leaves him there, aching for her.

But when she turns around, eyes sparkling, he is quick to follow her. Thinking that if she thinks she can outplay him she is very, very wrong. After all, he is still Chuck Bass. This game is one he knows well.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

They do not quite make it to the shower. As they lay side by side on the floor they can hear a knocking on the door to the suite. Once again she can sense him tense and she turns her face to look at him.

"I asked Serena to get me some stuff I have been keeping at her place" she explains "I will go talk to her." Kissing him softly before getting on her feet, wrapping one of the fluffy white bathrobes around her petit frame.

"We were supposed to shower, remember?" She smiles down at him "Get in there, I will be right back."

"As soon as I regain mobility of my legs" He smirks, giving her an appreciating look "Had I known what was in store then maybe I would have disappeared months ago, Waldorf"

And her heart skips a beat out of pure joy. Thrilled at those bits of what is truly him, seeping through the sadness and the grief. Hoping that those bits are enough, that he is ready for what she has planned. Hoping she is not making a mistake, rushing things.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

He gets in the shower, turning the hot water on to the point where it is close to boiling in his book, knowing that is how she likes it. Even though he can not understand how someone could possibly like water so hot it melts your flesh off your body.

He is just getting used to the temperature of the water when she comes back and joins him, causing things to heat up even further.

Once they are finished and dressed he sits by watching her every move as she carefully dries her hair and works to get it just the way she wants it.

And it feels so right to be there with her and for the first time in a long time he is completely relaxed and at ease, studying her as she places a navy headband in her shiny curls. When their eyes meet in the mirror she cocks her eyebrow questioningly at the smile on his face.

"What, Bass?"

"I love you." He says, and is surprised about how easy it is to tell her those words now. How natural and effortless they seem in this moment.

And when she smiles at him he knows that even those three have a problem cutting it.

"I love you too" She says, and with a final look in the mirror she reaches out for his hand

"Lets get some room service, I am starving."

"Guess I wore you out, huh?" He smiles smugly as he takes her hand in his and follows her out of the bathroom.

As they walk through the bedroom, heading for the living room area, he can hear voices. Familiar voices. Shooting her a questioning look he is suddenly frozen to the spot from the sight that awaits him when they enter the living room.

Because in there is reality waiting for them, sending a chill down his spine. Reality in the shape of Serena, Nate, Lily and Eric.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She can heart their voices as they walk out of the bathroom, and she keeps her fingers crossed, nervous now. When he looks at her she can tell he is hearing it too, not able to say anything before he freezes in his steps. His grip of her hand hardening before hastily turning around and dragging her with him back into the bedroom before any of the others manage to catch a glimpse of them.

"What the fuck, Waldorf" He hisses between gritted teeth, letting go of her hand to pace around the room like a caged animal. Shooting her a dark look, a mixture of annoyed and panicked "What are they doing here?"

She is about to tell him to lighten up, not to be such a baby but to go and talk to his best friend and to his family. But when he slumps down on the floor, resting his back against the bed and she can hear his breath straining, his hands shaking as he brushes them through his still damp hair – she does not say any of those things.

She exhales, trying to ease the panic building in her own chest. Recognizing how he has positioned himself, guessing he has been in this situation before. Remembering yesterday morning. Wanting nothing more than to help him, feeling guilty, she sits down next to him. Her fingers massaging his neck, waiting for him to regain control.

"Fuck, fuck…fuck" She can hear him whispering as he sits there, face buried, trying to breathe normally.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

He can feel it coming as the events of the previous days come rushing back; hiding away, arguing with Serena. He can picture Eric in his dream; the disgusted look on his face. Hearing his words loud and clear echoing in his head;

_I don't care, you are not worth i__t_

_You are not my brother__, remember?_

And all of a sudden it is back, the shortness of breath, his heart racing in his chest. When the room starts spinning he slumps down on the floor. Concentrating only on not loosing his mind, focusing on breathing even when every breath sticks achingly in his throat.

And right where he feels like he is loosing it again, when he is mere seconds away from being overwhelmed, he can feel her fingers against his neck, and the smell of her newly washed hair seeping through the layers of panic.

She loves you. Everything will be fine, she loves you… Echoing in his head, over and over, as he manages to regain control over his own body.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

He settles eventually, and after a few moments of silence he looks over to her as she sits there next to him, waiting.

"Ambush much, G.I. Jane?" He frowns, looking a little embarrassed. And when she can tell he will not lash out on her she dares giving him a hint of a smile, sensing his need to lighten the mood.

"You are the one with the habit of going a-wall, Bass" She smiles. "Do you wanna talk about it?" She asks him, serious now, her hand still rubbing his neck moving down to his shoulders.

"Not really" he answers after a while "Just…I have some stuff to sort out…with everyone…"

"It will be alright" she tells him once again "That is your family out there."

Ignoring the frown on his face at the word family she gets on her feet and extends her hand to him. Looking at him expectantly, rasing her eyebrows impatiently at him when he does not react fast enough.

He grabs her hand and walking out of the room she is pretty sure she can her him mutter something about bossy women, forcing her to stifle the laughter bubbling in her throat. Thinking that things will actually be alright and back to normal sooner or later.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

* * *

_Thoughts? _

_I really wanna make the next one a bit more about Chuck and Eric. Cause that needs dealing with "irl" and not just in a nightmare if you ask me._


	10. What Big Brothers Do

Walking into the living room his heart is beating furiously in his chest. Chuck Bass nervous, he thinks to himself, that is a new one.

Serena, Nate and Eric are in the room, the boys sitting at the dinner table and Serena busy setting the table. When they walk in the room Nate is the first one to spot them.

"Hey man, hey B!" He calls out happily, walking over to greet them. Hugging Blair before putting a hand Chuck's shoulder. Squeezing it. Blue eyes letting him know everything is fine between the two of them.

"Nathaniel" He nods his voice still a little raspy before looking over to Serena.

"Hi, S" He offers. Feeling Blair squeeze his hand and some of the nervousness disappear when Serena offers him one of those beaming smiles in response as she lays out the silverware.

Eric is still sitting at the table, fidgeting with one of the crisp linen napkins, not looking up. It is easy to tell he wishes to be far, far away. But as always Eric remains faithful to his family, the thought causing him to wince.

As he opens his mouth to say something to him, he is suddenly interrupted by another member of the van der Woodsen clan.

"Chuck" Lily exclaims as she enters the room, followed by a member of the room service staff delivering the food.

And if he is a little surprised by hearing Lily refer to him as something other than Charles, he has no time to reflect upon it before she reaches him and pulls him in a tight embrace.

"It is so good to see you" She says, her voice filled with emotion.

Frozen at first, not used to the close physical contact, he then forces himself to shake the feeling off and hugs her back. She smells of expensive perfume and feels fragile in his arms, not quite like herself.

And in that moment he feels guilty, more now than ever, for leaving everything and everyone behind. Because no matter how he has behaved towards her in the past he likes Lily and he knows that she was good to his father. Good to him. That she was the closest to a mother he has ever had. Even if it was more than strange to suddenly have curfews and questions about your whereabouts after seventeen years with no questions asked.

"I am sorry" He whispers as he can feel her draw a ragged breath.

Pulling away from him, placing her hand on his cheek she looks at him. Smiling through the tears.

"No need…" she says "Just...it is good to see you."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Letting go of him, drying her tears away she walks up to the table to help Serena and the staff set everything out on the table. Once their finished they all sit down. Chuck finding himself between Blair and Lily, the other three on the opposite side of the table.

Brunch passes by quietly. Nate and Serena bickering, Lily laughing a fragile laugh at their banter. Blair and Serena discussing the latest gossip. Eric still has not said a word. Both him and Chuck eating in silence.

He is feeling a little overwhelmed still, but not uncomfortable with the situation. What is possibly going on in the other boy's head he can not quite manage the courage to guess.

He finds himself constantly looking over to Eric. When he is not looking he can feel the younger boy's eyes on him, but when he looks up Eric diverts his gaze.

He can not seem to relax fully, wanting nothing more than the chance to talk to him. Wanting nothing more than a chance to make it right between them. Trying to push out the images of dream-Eric lashing out at him, trying to build up the courage to deal with the mess that he has caused.

After finishing eating, spending a while finishing their drinks with no hurry to get anywhere, Lily is the first one to excuse herself

"Well, I have some errands to run" she explains as she gets up, dropping the napkin on the table. "You kids have a good day" She continues, looking over to him "We should do this again, soon."

And with those words she heads for the door. Eric suddenly coming to life.

"I will go with you then, since we are finished here" He spits out, tossing his own napkin in direction of the table. Leaving the room in a rush and slamming the door shut, Lily with no chance of keeping up with him is left standing.

Serena and Nate exchanging a look that lets him know they know exactly how Eric is feeling towards him. Realizing it is now or never, he is suddenly in a hurry.

Getting to his feet and rushing after Eric, catching him as he stands waiting for the elevator.

As he puts his hand on Eric's arm he is brushed off roughly.

"Don't!" Eric snaps and when he finally looks up at him there is venom in his eyes.

Venom and hurt.

"Just, don't" Eric says again, a little quieter now, straightening his blazer.

And for a moment he is speechless, trying to stop the memories from his dream from taking over. Succeeding, because even though he can tell just how hurt Eric is, he still feels like there is a chance, still some hope.

"I am sorry" he says, thinking that he has been saying those words a lot lately, especially given that they were not exactly part of his vocabulary earlier.

Eric does not say anything in return, just stands there pushing the button of the elevator furiously over and over again.

So he tries again.

"I am, sorry…listen…Eric" And he does not know quite what to say. It seems like there is too much to be said, and in the same time there is not much at all. Just the one wish to take it all back, have yet another second chance. Clearing his throat before continuing.

"I was being an ass, I know…but I was drunk and…and I know that is not an excuse."

Eric shoots him a look letting him know that he is right, so he goes on trying to explain or at least excuse his behaviour.

"…but I just could not deal, I was fucked up. I am still fucked up." He corrects himself.

"But I am sorry I said those things to you."

The third time seems to be the charm as Eric looks at him. At least listening to what he is saying now.

"You are right about that part" Eric snorts "And I guess you were right at the reception as well."

And it is as if he is being slapped across the face. The tightness in his chest returning. Realizing just how much he wishes those words to be false he can feel an anger starting to simmer in his body.

"No I was not" He spits back looking at Eric, frowning. "No I was not…" He repeats, calmer this time. Emphasizing his words. Trying to put his thoughts into words.

"I did consider you my brother" God, it sounds ridiculous doesn't it? But he is well beyond the point where he would care.

"I did...it is just that. I am not sure I can be a good enough one in return."

Well, it is a fact. He is probably something like two sentences away from being a cast member on Days of Our Lives.

Eric is looking at him, disbelief on his face.

"Wow, you are fucked up" Eric says almost smiling, the venom gone from his eyes.

Suddenly there is a loud ding as the elevator arrives and the doors open. They look at each other, both suddenly a little uncomfortable.

"Well I guess I should…" Eric's voice trails off, looking towards the open elevator.

And all he can think is that he does not want him to leave, not yet, wanting more time repairing his mistakes. A memory suddenly clear in his head.

"Did you get that game that you talked about?"

"The Xbox one? Yeah I got it a few days ago, haven't tried it yet"

"Feel like loosing today?" He tries, offering Eric a lazy smirk to mask his nervousness.

"I will go get it" A smile on Eric's face, the first one actually reaching his eyes.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

When he walks back into the suite he suddenly finds himself with four pair of eyes focused solemnly on him. Blair looking at him with a worried expression on her face.

"Where did Eric go?" Lily is the first to speak.

And he almost feels like laughing out loud, both from relief and from looking at their concerned faces. Stifling it but still not able to prevent the happy smirk from appearing on his face.

"He went to get a game for my Xbox, you know which one I am talking about Nate" He says, walking up to Blair and putting his arms around her from behind, kissing her cheek.

Ignoring the somewhat surprised looks from Nate and Serena. The two of them not used to seeing this side of him. The affectionate, smitten side.

"So you better start preparing for defeat." He continues causing Nate to burst out laughing.

Satisfied with how things have turned out between the boys Lily heads for the door. Before leaving she turns around and catches his eyes once again. A silent nod of understanding between the both of them before she exits.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Once Eric returns the boys spend a good amount of time in front of the Xbox in the living room. Nate in the armchair, Eric sitting on the floor. Himself sharing a couch with Blair and Serena.

The girls soon give up trying to feign interest in the car chases going on, on the massive screen and opts for some magazines found in Serena's bag.

And even though he is concentrated on the game, with harassing his opponents, winning, he still can not seem to keep his attention or his hands off Blair. Toying with her hand, the hem of her skirt.

Looking over at her in between races, watching her mimic some lowlife from school. Re-enacting some scheme ending in social destruction.

Once in a while he can feel her hand on his leg, on his back. Reassuring. Affectionate.

_Staying with him_

"Yes!" Eric calls out, throwing his arms up into the air victoriously. "I won!"

Nate laughing as the joyous expression on Eric's face freezes as Eric looks over to him, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Did you just let me win, Chuck? He asks, feigning offense.

"Please" He smirks "Like you would have any chance of beating me if I was bringing my A game"

"Besides" He continues a little more serious now "Isn't that what big brothers do?"

Eric giving him a wide grin in return.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Hanging out, playing Xbox is how they spend the rest of their day. The Non-judging Breakfast Club and the little brother.

When Serena and Blair declare that they are going shopping, there is a tingle of ice in the pit of his stomach.

But it is quickly gone as she kisses him softly, her hand around his neck. Eric and Nate laughing in the background as she reminds him once again of those three words, telling him she won't be gone long.

Followed by the promise to make it up to him.

* * *

_All I want for Christmas is...reviews! ;)_


	11. Make It Up To You

_Just a short one, since it's x-mas and everything..._

* * *

"So what's it gonna be? Yes or no?"

He can hear her voice as if from far, far away. Her fingers wrapped around him, making it impossible for him to focus on anything besides her touch.

"What?" He groans as she moves her hand, sending shocks of electricity through his body.

"Yes or no?" She repeats the question, whispering, as she does _that_ thing with her hand again. That thing she very well knows the effect of, pushing him closer.

"Fuck…Whatever you want. Yes."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"I can't believe you did that"

Bitterness in his voice, he sounds a little offended as they lay spilled out across the bed later on. And she has to cover her mouth with her hand to keep the laugh from spilling out. Thanking her lucky star he is not looking her way but instead lying face down, his face buried in the pillows.

"I told you I would make it up to you" She retorts, somehow managing to feign innocence.

"That is not what I am talking about Waldorf, and you know it" He scoffs "I can't believe you made me promise…that…whilst…"

An annoyed grunt escaping his mouth.

"I am starting to believe you really are enrolled" He continues and she can hear a fraction of humour in his voice now. "With your army tactics and all. Ambushing, torturing innocent victims to get the answers you want."

"Torture?" She questions him tauntingly as he lifts his head up the pillows and turns to her. "You didn't exactly seem to be in agonizing pain"

Seeing his eyes narrow at her comment she snickers, snuggling in closer to him.

"Come on" Scanning his features, making sure he is not really mad before she continues; "You have to go back there someday. I am the one having to go back tomorrow, our deal said after the holidays"

"Deal? Oh hell no. That was no deal, that was pure extortion" He huffs but pulls her closer as he does.

"It is only school" She smiles. Sliding her thigh up his as she continues; "But I guess what I did could be considered treason…I am sure you can figure out a proper punishment"

A promising look of menace in his eyes as he accepts the challenge.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*


	12. Red Silk, Shiny Silver

_It must be the Christmas spirit that has me updating this every day...haha...cause here's the next chapter_

_and the fluff...aah, the fluff! It's starting to become unbearable...so consider yourself warned ;)_

_Thank you so much for reading, favouriting and reviewing! You make my day!_

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own gossip girl, or Roman Holiday...!_

* * *

A week later school is out for the holidays and the two of them have Christmas dinner with the van der Woodsens on Christmas Day. Eleanor and Cyrus still on their honeymoon and Harold and Roman in Mexico for the holidays.

It is not quite the festive day it usually is at the Palace this year. The recent events having washed away some of the tinselled layers of festivity, the celebration more than ever about enjoying your loved ones, spending time together.

He finds himself thinking how he is not used to Christmas like this. Family Christmas, not really a common notion in the Bass household. Dining together - without guests to entertain, appearances to keep up - a rare treat. To his surprise he finds that he likes it, he would never have guessed himself to, but he does. Mostly he likes spending time with her, but the rest is a pleasant bonus.

Sneaking her away from the others. Bringing their coats and dragging her with him out on the terrace. Twinkling lights covering the city, it is dark and cold out, the streets as close to empty as they get in New York. Tiny snowflakes falling, landing in her hair, on her green wool coat.

"So, Bass" She asks, tilting her head to the side. Her breath fogging the air "What is it that causes you to drag me out here in the freezing cold?"

His back leaning against the railing he looks over to her, taking her in.

"I got you something"

Turning his body so that he is facing her, brushing some snow off her collar.

"But you already got me that Hermès bag" She objects, still smiling at the thought of her new red, patent Birkin.

"Well, I got you something else too"

Leaning in to kiss her, sliding his hand into her hair. Deepening the kiss, tingles matching the falling snow.

"Sorry, I already got plenty of those" She laughs as she pulls away, batting her eyelashes at him flirtatiously.

Raising his eyebrow at her he reaches for his inside pocket, pulling out a white envelope and handing it to her.

"A gift certificate?" She asks teasingly as she takes it from him "Really, Bass, the lack of imagination found in men…"

"Just open it, Waldorf"

As she opens the envelope and pulls out the card he can see her expression change from teasing to one of confusion. Looking at the stone figure on the front of the card and then looking up at him questioningly.

"Read it out loud, will you?" He urges her on, eager to see her reaction.

"_You can ask me whatever you want and I won't lie. I like my hands the way they are... - Chuck_" She reads out, confusion in her voice.

Then she recognizes the stone symbol and the meaning behind the words.

"The Mouth of Truth!" She exclaims victoriously. "That is what happens in Roman Holiday, when Gregory Peck scares Audrey Hepburn by pretending to get his hand bitten of by the Mouth of Truth!"

Nodding he lifts his eyebrow at her.

"Wow, Waldorf" He says teasingly "You are usually not this slow."

And then he can tell exactly when she finally puts her head around it, understanding what he is telling her. Her eyes wide with disbelief and surprise as she looks at him.

"Rome?" She says slowly "Are you taking me to Rome?"

When he nods she lets out a shriek, throwing her arms around him.

"I thought we could spend New Years over there" He explains, his mouth close to her ear as he hugs her back.

Leaning back to look at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips before letting go.

"I have to tell Serena!" She declares, rushing back into the penthouse.

He can see her through the windows, running up to her best friend. See her throw her arms around her and the two of them jumping around like little girls giddy with laughter. Lily and Eric looking rather confused by their behaviour.

Thrilled to be the cause of her excitement.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Later on he is sitting in the living room, talking to Eric, when he realizes that she is no longer there. Right then, there is a text message from her on his phone;

**U ready for UR**** present?**

**- B**

Confused he goes looking for her but instead finds Serena talking to Lily in the hallway.

"She went down to 1812" Serena explains to him before he even manages to open his mouth and ask them, a hint of a smile on her lips telling him she knows something that he doesn't.

As he enters through the door of his suite he finds the room pitch black. A single candle placed on the floor next to the closed bedroom door

"Blair?" He calls out for her as he pushes the door open.

She is sitting on the bed, lit candles all over the room. Dressed – if you can call her level of clothing dressed - in a red slip, His signature scarf slung around her neck, resting against her smooth, ivory skin.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

As he enters she can tell from his expression that the red slip was the perfect choice. Raw and naked appreciation clearly visible in his eyes before he pulls himself together, leaning against the doorpost.

"Don't tell me you are in to bondage now, Waldorf" A lazy smirk on his face.

But she can tell she is having the desired effect on him as she gets to her feet and he immediately walks up to meet her. Standing face to face in the middle of the room. His hands brushing along her arms.

"Not quite" She retorts, slinging the scarf over his head, still holding on to the ends, pulling him closer.

"No? I could always call the janitor, I am sure they must have something a little more…solid, than this" He offers with a smirk, fingering the scarf, his hand covering hers.

"Funny, Bass…I had it altered a little actually. That is why I am wearing it."

Amused by the worried glance in his eyes she lets go of the scarf and backs up to the bed, sitting down, waiting.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

As she lets go of the scarf there is something twinkling in the corner of his eye that catches his attention.

Something small, silvery and heart shaped.

Reaching for it he is left speechless as he fingers the tiny heart shaped pin that has been meticulously attached to the scarf.

Not quite sure what to say, or trusting his voice as he feels as if his heart is in his throat, he sits down next to her on the bed. Still not saying a word, just stroking his thumb over the pin repeatedly. The silver cool against his skin.

"It is your pin" He says, realizing just how stupid he sounds stating the obvious. "You gave it to Nate."

"And then you gave it to Marcus" He has no idea why on earth he is bringing that lowlife into conversation but he does.

A part of him terrified of this tiny piece of silver. Terrified she will take it back, that voice in the back of his head still telling him he is not good enough. That he doesn't deserve it, doesn't deserve her.

"I was just messing with your head, you know that right? I never gave it to James, it never belonged to him" She explains worriedly "I gave it to Nate, but that was different. That was not this. Nothing like this, us."

Nudging him lightly.

"Hey, look at me"

He looks from the pin to her. Searching in her eyes for that which will tell him what he needs to believe.

"It has been yours for so long – it never stopped belonging to you. I should have given it to you months ago."

And just like that she sweeps all his doubts away. Replacing them with something much stronger, much brighter.

"I would probably have lost it" He jokes, causing her to gasp in feigned horror and shove her elbow into his side.

"Traded it for drinks…" He can't help but push it a little further, snorting with laughter as she throws herself at him in pretence anger, forcing him down on his back, straddling him. Pinning his hands - one still holding onto the scarf - above his head.

The light from the candles causing her skin to glow, her hair in curls, falling freely around her bare shoulders. The feigned anger gone from her features, replaced with a triumphant glow from having him pinned down.

All darkness gone from his chest, even if only for a little while. Pushed out by red silk, shiny silver and brown eyes.

"I will keep it safe" Serious now, determined "I won't loose it…You."

"I know you won't" She assures him, twining their fingers together above his head. "I know you won't."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

* * *


	13. When In Rome

_Once again thank you for helping with the whole Ivy League-thingie! You guys rock!_

_Okay, here is the Rome chapter...You know when you go on holiday, and then later on when you think back on your trip there are often some things that you remember better than others? Little moments, maybe completely insignificant at the time but later on the strongest memories? I decided to write this chapter a little like that, consisting of "snap shots" both from Blair and Chuck's POV, jumping between days and in no particular order, I hope it's not confusing._

_When it comes to the research part...I've been to Rome once myself, so I just put in little things that I remember. Trastevere is a part of Rome that is just soooo pretty, you should google it for pictures! _

_And, the world's quickest summary for Roman Holiday (that I watched yesterday for the first time actually): Princess Ann (Hepburn) and journalist Joe (Gregory Peck) spend 24h together in Rome, that's all you need to know to read my chapter. haha_

_**Disclaimer:** Still, I own nothing._

* * *

He has been to Rome several times before, finding the city to be pleasant enough and the company offered 'friendly' enough for his likings.

But he has never fallen in love with it until he sees it through her eyes. Walking around the city centre, having coffee in little cafés, dining in dimly lit restaurants, shopping - all the time with an amazed smile on her face as she falls wildly in love with 'The Eternal City', dragging him along with her as she falls.

He would have been perfectly content with never leaving the hotel room – and he does manage to keep her there a satisfying amount of time – but finds himself enjoying playing tourists with her during the days and by doing so keeping most of the darkness away. The moments of being trapped in a dark hole fewer and further apart, and after a few days almost completely forgotten about.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

It is early in the evening. She has just finished getting ready for the night, dressed in a flowing chiffon, knee length dress in a variety of soft greens, bought during her shopping trip down Via Condotti earlier that day. Leaving the bedroom she can not find him anywhere in the suite, confused before noticing that the terrace door is not completely shut.

Pulling on a soft, white cashmere cardigan she exits through the door, taking the private stairs down to the hotels inner courtyard. The small space on three sides surrounded by buildings is like a little sanctuary with a meticulously looked after garden. At the moment decorated for the season with thousands of twinkling lights making it appear like something out of an old Hollywood movie.

None the less it is seemingly empty now during the colder season as she follows one of the paved footpaths in search of him.

When she does find him she is momentarily stunned, sneaking up on him as he crouches down next to his company.

The green-eyed thing having his full attention he doesn't notice her until she opens her mouth to speak;

"Please tell me that I am dreaming"

He gets to his feet hurriedly, tugging at the sleeve of his black shirt with an uneasy expression on his face. Shoving his hands in his pockets she can tell he is uncomfortable with the situation but unable to hide his companion and explain away what she is seeing.

The slender, rather shabby black cat tripping around his feet, rubbing against his legs.

"What, Waldorf?" He replies, sounding a little embarrassed. Not looking her in the eyes and discretely trying to keep the feline from rubbing against him affectionately.

"Please tell me I did not just see you patting that filthy, stray monster!"

"It is just a cat, Waldorf" He answers back "And it is not filthy…"

"A STRAY cat! God knows what kind of lethal bacteria it is carrying around!" She frowns

"There is no way I am spending my holiday in an emergency room recovering from rabies or hepatitis just because you are all of a sudden turning into some PETA activist"

"Come on, she just came up to me while I was down here - waiting for you to finally finish getting ready I might add – and what was I supposed to do? Kick her off of me?"

"She?" She can not help but smile.

"Whatever" He huffs and with a final glance down at his black furry admirer he walks up to her. Offering her his hand and sighing as she just looks at him and his hand as if he has lost his mind. The look in her eyes letting him know there is no way she is holding hands with him before he has been thoroughly sanitized.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

The grey-haired waiter is going on and on in broken English, a blur of words all he catches on to as he desperately tries to concentrate on what is being said to him.

A slender stocking clad foot making its way up his leg, rubbing against his thigh in the privacy and protection of the tablecloth. Brown eyes sparkling in delight as he gives her a stern look, shifting in his chair. Stifling a groan as she stretches her leg out further, causing her foot to brush against his groin.

Clenching his fists he turns his face away from hers looking over at the waiter. The old man seemingly waiting for a response of some sort. Trying to call to mind something – anything - the man has been saying he can feel her pull her foot away. Then getting to her feet, leaving for the bathroom.

He somehow manages to regain his composure and order their food. When she returns she stops behind him. Leaning in, sliding her arms down his chest. As she brushes her lips against his jaw line he can feel her shove something down the inside pocket of his blazer. When she is seated opposite him he sticks his hand inside the pocket to find out what she left there.

A devilish grin on her face when his eyes widen as his fingers come in contact with the piece of fabric she left there. He knows it to be black lace and soft satin, having paid for the item himself earlier that day.

Hoping and praying that she won't order dessert.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Fireworks exploding in the night, vibrant colors and the smell of smoke. The sound of people cheering and laughing from afar, church bells ringing as the clock strikes midnight. The whole city busy celebrating the past and what is yet to come.

The two of them alone in the dusk portico of the the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin. Fingers entwined inside a dark, cool marble cavity as they stand facing each other. So close the tips of their noses are brushing against one another.

"I love you"

"I love you too"

"Chuck?"

"Yeah?"

"One more thing…"

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"Well, well, well"

He can not help but smirk smugly at her, thrilled by having caught her so off guard.

"What do we have here" He continues, walking up to her - smug smirk still in place. "And you gave me a hard time about patting the thing?"

Crossing her arms across his chest she looks back at him, her features a mixture of embarrassment and defiant.

"I hate tuna, you know that" She snaps, looking down on the black cat busy gulping down the tuna bread spread placed on expensive china, a leftover from breakfast.

"And Princess looked really skinny and hungry the other day…" Her voice trails off as she realizes the slip of words.

"Princess?" He mocks her gently "You NAMED the 'filthy, stray monster' Princess?"

"Princess…you know…"

Walking the final steps up to her, he puts his arms around her from behind, resting his jaw on her shoulder. Looking down on the cat as it licks the final pieces of tuna off the plate, purring wildly. Feeling almost as if they are standing looking down at a baby in a crib. An image of a baby girl with dark eyes and lovely brown curls flashing through his head.

"Only you, Blair" He snickers, pulling her closer against his chest. "Only you."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"You are the most egotistical, heinous ASS that I have ever met!"

Boiling with anger, thinking that he is oh so lucky there are no sharp objects around. Wishing that there were, or maybe something blunt and heavy, she is not feeling picky at the moment.

Trying to outrun him but finally giving up she turns around, shooting him a raged look from under furrowed brows.

"Who the hell do you think you are, Bass?"

"Get over it" He snaps back, just as angry. A tension in his jaw and dark eyes shooting daggers.

"My actions were completely justified"

"It was a kiss on the cheek! He was just a waiter for God's sake; he was being NICE!"

Standing on the sidewalk, mere inches apart, and the tension thick in the air. People passing by shooting nervous looks at the couple standing there looking as if they might tear each other's heads off at any second.

"Honestly, if your only intention with this trip was to HUMILIATE ME, then you could have done that just fine in New York!"

"Kiss on the cheek?! Oh please! He had his hands all over you!"

"OH PLEASE!" Throwing his words back in his face she shoves her finger in his chest.

"You are such a stuck up basstard, that is how they do things! Try getting your thick head around that fact and stop HARASSING innocent waiters!"

"Since when did it become part of the Italian custom to get to fucking second base with paying – TAKEN – customers?"

She doesn't reply but give out an angered and frustrated shriek before turning away from him and stepping off the sidewalk with the intention of crossing the street to get to their hotel.

Blinding lights and the loud sound of a horn has her frozen to the spot – like a deer caught in headlights - until a hand grips around her arm pulling her back out of the vespa's way. She stumbles back, nearly falling over.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?" He yells, letting go off her upper arm as he does.

She regains her balance just as he realizes what he has just said. All the color draining from his face leaving him pale white, looking as if he has seen a ghost.

Her arms around his waist before she knows it. The anger she felt towards him mere seconds ago, gone in a heartbeat.

As they stand there by the busy road she can feel his heart beating frantically in his chest. And it is almost as if she can feel it rip back open again, feel it aching with every beat. The pain much greater when having been close to forgotten, now harshly reminding both of them of the world outside their happy bubble.

Then he suddenly gets moving, walking over to the hotel across the street and this time she has to struggle to keep up with him. She can almost see him putting the bricks in place, building walls around himself, disconnecting.

As they enter their lavish suite they still haven't said a word. He heads straight for the mini bar; reaching for the bottle he hasn't touched since they arrived. Filling up a tumbler and emptying it in one go.

She remains in the doorway watching him, not saying anything to stop him.

Brick after brick after brick.

But when he fills the glass a second time she walks up to him, determined to stop him from falling back into old patterns. Putting her hand on his arm to keep him from downing the amber liquid. Her other hand reaching for the tumbler, a short halfhearted struggle taking place before he lets go of the glass, allowing her to take it from him and put it away.

Dragging him over to the bed and pushing him down onto it. Laying down beside him, wrapping her limbs around him like ivy on a brick wall, determined to be the one causing the bricks to crumble.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"I love this city, I could stay here forever" she exclaims jovially, slurring slightly.

Swirling around in the middle of the street, shooting him a smile, swaying a little as she comes to a halt.

Her yellow a-line coat like a firefly in the dimly lit alley he walks up to her, offering her his hand for support. Smiling at the sight of the Constance Billard's Ice Queen completely off her face.

"I once heard that 'people who can not handle liquor shouldn't drink'" He smirks, quoting Gregory Peck, and cocks his eyebrow at her when she declines his extended hand with an imitation of a royal wave, stumbling a little to the side as she does. A giggle escaping her lips as she has to stop walking to regain her balance.

"Oh, you know Bass…'When in Rome do as the Romans do'…"

"Stumble around Trastevere drunkenly at midnight?" He offers.

"Drink Italian wine!" She continues with a proud grin on her face.

As she takes a few more unsteady steps he suddenly finds himself leaping forward to catch her and prevent her from falling flat as she trips in her Prada wedges. Ignoring her protests he then puts his arm around her waist to steady her.

"High heels and cobblestone doesn't seem to be the smartest combination, Waldorf" He points out as she mumbles something with her face buried in his shirt.

"Did you just say wobblestone?"

Looking up at him as she leans against him she frowns at the smile in his voice. Her eyes a little glassy and cheeks blushed as she puts her lips against his. The taste of tiramisu and red wine.

"More appropriate word…" She mutters quietly as she breaks off the kiss causing him to snicker at her remark.

"Can't we get a cab? I don't like this sorry excuse of a road with all its wobbly cobbly…" The tongue twister demanding too much of her intoxicated brain she surrenders.

"That would require us to get to the main street where cars are actually allowed..."

Walking towards the main street she is clinging to him on unsteady legs.

"My feet hurt"

"Can you feel your feet? I am surprised"

"Can't you carry me?"

Puppy eyes looking at him, trembling lip and slight frown in place. And even though he knows that he is being played he has to force himself not to do what she is asking him to.

"Oh no, Waldorf" He replies brightly "You are gonna have to drag your own drunken ass all the way over there yourself."

Suddenly stopping she shoots him an exasperated look.

"There is nothing wrong with my ass!" She declares haughtily "And I am a lady, I do not get 'drunk'…I…drink."

"Well, you are right about the first one."

Winking at her expression he drags her with him the last steps and waves down a cab. Once inside she reaches down to take off her strappy shoes before resting her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes.

"Hey" He whispers, carefully tucking a stray curl behind her ear "Do not fall asleep Waldorf, do you hear me?"

"Hmm?"

Her answer is barely audible as she nuzzles closer to him, and he could have sworn that he could feel his heart melting in his chest as her hand reaches out for his before she drifts off.

When they arrive to the hotel she is fast asleep. Rolling his eyes to the driver in mutual understanding of the hassle brought by intoxicated females as he pays for the ride, picks her shoes off the floor of the backseat and then gets out of the cab before reaching in and taking her in his arms.

Muttering a little as he is forced to slam the door shut using his knee, buckling a little under his motionless load.

He is too focused on his sleeping girl and not loosing hold of her shoes to catch on to the smiling faces of the reception staff as he carries her through the lobby. Unaware of the picture perfect image they make and the whisperings of young love.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

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_Reviews are love..!_


	14. Pretty Princess And Puppy Eyes

_I decided to do an extended version of the scene with Princess The Cat...simply because I like it. I changed the POV's a little and made it longer. __Next chapter will be set in NY._

* * *

The morning sun is seeping through the curtains, reflecting in the glass surface of the dining table as they sit opposite each other finishing their breakfast. He doesn't say much and neither does she. Knowing that he is not exactly a morning person and besides she doesn't mind the silence.

They have created a comfortable routine over the past few days; waking up in their gorgeous suite that she has fallen head over heels with, having breakfast from room service and then on to the adventure of the day.

She is loving every second of it, loving seeing him happier than she has in a long time, but on the other hand still fully aware of the ever-present hint of darkness in his eyes. The memory of their interrupted argument a few nights back still clear in her mind. One part of her knowing that what they are doing could be viewed upon as running away from reality, knowing that he is avoiding thinking about a lot of things. Another part of her justifying it with the explanation that they need this, they need this opportunity to be Chuck and Blair, before taking on the rest of the darkness in his world. Their world.

And it is just so nice being here, being here with him. Thinking back on just exactly _how_ nice waking up next to him was this very morning she can feel her cheeks redden. Hoping he will not have caught it from behind the Italian paper he is occupying himself with.

But of course he does. Sometimes she could swear that he has radar when it comes to things like that.

"Reminiscing, Waldorf?" He smirks, lowering the paper to catch her eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself, Bass"

"No need" He smirks "Hearing you scream my name is flattery enough…"

Her eyes narrowing at his remark yet she doesn't reply, because honestly they both know he is right. The lack of response from her side has him grinning as he puts the paper down.

"I will go down to the reception and see if they have everything ready" He declares, finishing the last of his juice.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Walking towards the elevators there is suddenly an image flashing through his head causing him to wince. An image of himself - maybe eight years old - walking next to his father in the corridor of a hotel, not very different from this one. Struggling to keep up as Bart Bass hurries down the corridor, barking orders over his phone.

He can not remember what they were doing there - where it was or when – still the memory causes a shiver to run down his spine and he shakes his head to get rid of the feeling. Instead reminding himself of that morning, in this hotel, with her. Focusing on the present and shutting out the past. At least for now.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She is sorting through the content of her beloved Birkin as a movement outside on the terrace catches her attention. Walking up to the glass door she sees that black monster she found him making acquaintances with yesterday. When the animal spots her it sits down on the stone banister and looks at her expectantly, blinking slowly with those big eyes focused fully on her.

She can not help but think that it doesn't look fully as dirty and shabby as she thought it to be earlier. When she comes to think about it, it is actually quite beautiful with its dark fur and eyes a light green colour, tilting its head expectantly at her. Still, when she finds herself reaching out to open the door and then stepping out she is confused by her own actions.

As she steps out the cat lets out a hopeful meow, leaving the banister it walks up to her and starts rubbing against her legs. At first she has to swallow a shriek as the cat's fur comes into contact with her bare legs.

"What are you doing?!" She spits at the small feline, stepping away from its attempted display of affection.

Having been so brusquely dismissed the cat is one again sitting down, watching her with those green eyes. Letting out a low hesitant meow before once again starting to rub itself against her leg.

The black fur surprisingly silky against her skin she actually finds herself not moving away this time, trying really hard not to think about all the vermin quite possibly invading her leg.

"Alright, so you are not filthy then, at least that is one thing in your favor."

As the cat repeatedly rubs against her leg she suddenly finds herself warming up to the affectionate treatment, bending down to touch it ever so gently on the head. The fur like silk underneath her fingertips but she can still feel just how skinny and malnourished it is, suddenly filled with pity.

"You poor thing" She coos whilst scratching the cat absentmindedly. Noticing old scars and other signs of battle she almost gasps with dismay.

"Poor baby, what have they done to you?" She coos "Did they envy you for being much prettier than they are? Because you are so pretty, yes you are. You are pretty like a princess"

The cat is rubbing against her scratching nails, arching its back – begging for more. As it does so the ribs are clearly visible through the fur.

"You like that? Maybe we should call you Princess, just like Princess Ann? Are you hungry pretty Princess?"

Remembering how her new furry friend had looked just as starving and skinny the other night she frowns a little, trying to come up with something she can do to help. A satisfied smile on her face as she remembers that revolting tuna bread spread that room service persists on delivering with their breakfast.

Opening the door carefully she sneaks back in, hoping he will still be out, and walks up to the dining table. A disgusted look on her face as she scoops some of the tuna on a plate.

"Here you go" She offers as she puts the plate on the ground in front of the cat. Smiling as Princess throws herself at the plate.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"Well, well, well"

Oh crap; there will be no living with him now - is the first thought to cross her mind as she hears the sound of his voice, followed by a range of other not very ladylike expressions. She can hear the gloat in his voice and knows exactly what look is on his face with no need to find out for sure. Standing up straight she can not help but cross her arms across her chest defensively.

"What do we have here" He continues, as he walks through the door. That self-satisfied expression still on his face she curses herself for ever giving in to that conniving feline and her pretty eyes.

"And you gave me a hard time about patting the thing?"

She is well aware of her blushing cheeks but is hanging on to the last fraction remaining of her pride.

"I hate tuna, you know that" She snaps, but still a satisfied feeling in her gut as she looks down on the cat busy gulping down the tuna, paying no attention to her former favorite entering the terrace.

"And Princess looked really skinny and hungry the other day…" Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.

"Princess?" That velvet voice of his, mocking her gently as he stands leaning against the doorframe "You NAMED the 'filthy, stray monster' Princess?"

And suddenly she is almost offended on Princess' behalf as he repeats her words from yesterday. That was kind of harsh referring to her as a filthy monster, wasn't it? Well, a lady is entitled to changing her mind, right?

"Princess…you know…" She tries, realizing there is no saving her face now, and not really caring that much about it anymore.

He walks up to her as Princess finishes the last of her meal, putting his arms around her from behind. As he rests his jaw on her shoulder she leans back against him.

"Only you, Blair" He snickers and she can not help but roll her eyes at the delight in his voice. Seriously, sometimes he still behaves just like the five year-old she knew back in kindergarten. "Only you."

As Princess finishes her meal she returns to rubbing herself against her legs, not paying any attention to Chuck standing there behind her.

"She likes me better" She teases him, turning around to give him a wink, trying to redeem some of her pride.

"Well, I guess that makes two of us" He replies simply, catching her chin between his thumb and index finger, planting a kiss on her lips.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

The tuna is not being sent back to the kitchen any of the following days. They keep sneaking out to the courtyard to feed their newly found friend - at one point coming close to hiding in some bushes as a gardener comes walking as they stand there watching Princess enjoying her meal. But Chuck gives him one of those you-do-not-tell-me-what-to-do-I-am-Chuck-Bass-looks and the man quickly scampers off, muttering under his breath about crazy tourists with their crazy ideas.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"But who is gonna look after her?"

"You can not take her with you to New York, Blair" He repeats once again.

Seeing her look genuinely upset by the thought of leaving the cat behind he offers her a comforting smile, his arm around her shoulder.

"But…"

"Just imagine the look on your mother's face" He tries lightening the mood and is rewarded with a girly giggle when she pictures the scenario in her head.

"But she will be all by herself" Serious again, holding Princess in her arms "Who is gonna feed her when we are not here anymore?"

"She will do just fine, she is a fighter" He reassures her, reaching out to scratch the cat behind the ear, getting a purr in response.

"I guess.." She sighs, burying her face in the cat's silky fur "Or you could talk to that gardener…" Hope in her voice as she shoots him a pleading look. Puppy eyes and frown in place. He can never let her know exactly how well it works; there will be no living with her then.

He knows he will be speaking to the gardener before they leave, no doubt slipping a couple of euro bills too. He just might have to claim that he hasn't if she asks him.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

* * *


	15. The White Limo

_I'm back! did you miss me? well...I've missed this story! couldn't quite stay away from it, so here is the next chapter, like two days before I thought it would be...but I did actually finish my paper first! ;)_

_(But, just like the last time, I managed to post a one-shot too...Check it out if you want: id 4771692 "One Thing")_

_And btw, how epic was C and B on the roof top?!?! Loved it!_

_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing (except for Celia Baizen and my imagination!)_

**

* * *

**

**Gossip Girl here,**

**With the end of holidays I guess there is only one question on everyone's minds - will the New Year bring the return of the Prodigal Son to the hallways of St Jude's? Come on miss Waldorf, haven't you heard of sharing your toys?**

**You know you love me **

**XOXO **

**Gossip Girl**

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"Chuck"

It was supposed to come out as a warning, but with his fingers trailing the hem of her La Perlas she doesn't quite succeed. Putting her hands up against his chest with the intent on pushing him away, but instead finding herself pulling at the collar of his shirt to allow herself access to his mouth again. But even as his roaming hands causes her skin to burn there is still something in the back of her mind that keeps her from loosing grip on reality

"Chuck" She repeats once more, a little less desperation in her voice, more serious this time.

Somehow managing to pull away from their embrace she quickly retreats to the opposite end of the bathroom on shaky legs. Feeling the need for physical distance as they both stand there slightly breathless, him with a satisfied smirk lacing his features.

"Don't you try and get out of this" She continues, straightening her skirt and adjusting her headband, looking around in search for her lip gloss.

Frowning as his smirk widens, pulling out his arm from behind his back to reveal the small item in his left hand, looking more than content with his newly found treasure.

"We are gonna be late, give it!"

"Come and get it" A wicked grin on his face as he studies the gloss with pretended innocence.

"It is not funny, Bass, give it to me!" She hisses and with an exasperated sigh she leaves the safety of the other end of the room and walks up to him.

Reaching out for her lip gloss she can not help but let out a surprised gasp as she suddenly finds herself with her back against the cool tiles off the wall and his lips on hers once more.

Then thinking that they might have a few more minutes to spare.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"I can't believe we are almost late on the first day back" She frowns as they rush through the doors of the Palace, heading for the limo. "I should never have stayed over last night"

"Whatever Waldrof, like you could keep yourself out of my bed" He smirks as they get into the waiting limo and the driver shuts the door behind them.

She doesn't reply; too busy texting something on her phone.

"Who are you texting?" He asks her curiously, inching in closer to catch a look but she puts her phone away before he manages to see anything

"No one" She smiles leaning in for a kiss, letting him know he is off the hook.

They ride together in silence. Her seemingly occupied with her thoughts and him not knowing exactly how to rid himself of the uneasy feelings in his gut. To say that he is not the academic type would indeed be to put it nicely, and even though he hates to admit it he is a little…apprehensive about returning to St Jude's. That stupid bitch Gossip Girl having done nothing to help him in achieving his goal of returning unnoticed.

Normally he wouldn't care about what anyone said about him, he never has, but it is different this time. Then there is the meeting with the lawyers in the afternoon, the holidays are over and they most certainly aren't in Rome anymore. Reality awaits no matter how hard he has tried to block it out.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She can tell that he is stressed as the limo approaches their destination. His clenched fist is resting on his thigh and she reaches out for him. Putting her hand on top of his closed fist she can hear him exhale slowly as he entwines his fingers with hers.

She feels a little bad having him live up to his "promise", not that she is suddenly underestimating the importance of education, she just doesn't want him to go back if he is not ready. But she thinks that he is; which is exactly why she has been working on something…special.

She can feel him relax a little as she squeezes his hand but as the limo comes to a stop at the end of the street where Constance Billard and St Jude's are situated, blocked in traffic, the tense look on his face returns and she can tell that he wants to get it over with.

"I swear it is that stupid cow Celia Baizen and her tacky white limo blocking traffic again" He growls, refering to Carter's cousin, and she has to repress a laugh because of course he is right and it is all coming along just, perfect.

"Come on" She says, opening the door and getting out of the limo "We can walk from here."

"She is such a bitch" He goes on as he follows after her "Always blocking traffic trying to make me late for homeroom"

"You are always late for homeroom" She reminds him teasingly taking his hand as he reaches out for her.

Her heart flutters at the gesture that has become so natural to him now that it goes without thinking. Making it is almost impossible to remember the time when it was used as an argument for how they could never work out.

"I heard that the Baizens spent the holidays in Cancun"

He looks over at her and she can tell that he is confused by her sudden interest in Carter Baizen's family life.

"How do you know?" He asks her before continuing questioningly "And why would you want to vast brain cells thinking about that low life and his TACKY family?"

"They have Polish help" She smirks "And they are not of the trustworthy, silent kind. Dorota knows all there is to now about the Baizens. And she is definitely the trustworthy kind"

"Apparently…Celia and Carter shared the pool house just the two of them."

And he looks even more confused by her sudden informative personality and she can barely keep it together. Forcing herself to remain her cool and not give it all away just yet;

"And it seems that without a visit to the clinic behind the Ostroff Centre, dearest Celia would be attending our graduation ball in an empire cut dress." Letting the information sink in before she continues;

"Not to mention how she would look like a beached whale in time for college, if she could even attend college that is. I hear the dorm rooms don't usually come with changing tables…"

And as he stops in his steps he has such an appalled look on his face, staring at her in shock, and she can't help but smile at his expression.

"Ew, that is just…wrong." He manages with his face in a disgusted grimace - ignoring her cocked eyebrow that is obviously referring to his favourite topic when it comes to getting on Serena's nerves - as he continues;

"That is one set of DNA that really shouldn't be preserved for coming generations."

He nods his head towards the blonde girl leaving a white limo parked outside the gates, barely able to walk properly in her ridiculously high heels.

"Well…I heard it was the gardener" She explains "Not that Gossip Girl would bother with such details…if she was to find out that is…"

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

And with the simultaneous beeping of their phones in that very moment he comes to a halt once again. An devilish grin on his face as he looks over to her she can no longer keep the laughter from spilling out. Because he doesn't need to check his phone to know who the message is from, and what story it will tell.

"Good one, Waldorf" He acknowledges as he observes the blonde checking her phone before throwing herself back into the white limo and quickly leaving the scene of death of her social reputation. Most likely to transfer schools within the hour.

"Honestly, I am impressed." He smirks as they reach the gates; the steps filled with students all busy talking about the latest scandal. No one paying any attention to the two of them except for Serena and Nate, standing on top of the stairs waiting.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Bass" She smirks back at him "Are you insinuating that I – Blair Waldorf – would tip off Gossip Girl?"

And he has to kiss her, right then and there, because she has just proved to him once again how perfect she is. And he can feel her smiling against his lips, the victorious smile coming with a scheme well played.

"Come on" She says, dragging him up the stairs towards where Serena and Nate are standing

"We don't wanna be late for homeroom on our first day, do we?"

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

* * *

_I must admit Ive missed those emails in my inbox...and yes, this is my subtle way of asking for reviews_


	16. I Told Him

_So, this one is longer than the last one which was kinda short. It's been playing on my mind for like a week, and I finally managed to get it down in writing. Oh! before I forget, thank you so much for reviewing, you guys rock! Feel free to let me know what you think of this one ;)_

_I'm assuming that you're all familiar with "Chip n' Dale Rescue Rangers" (which I don't belong to me, but to Disney...), or maybe it's just me who's old. haha. _

_This chapter is from Blair's POV only, that will change in the next one. I might have made her a little more willing to let her guard down than she usually is. But I really want her to let Serena in some more so, yeah._

_And, one more thing...I am a million percent pro-Waldass...just keep that in mind when you read this chapter ;)_

* * *

It has been two weeks since they returned to school and for most of the UES life is back to normal after the holidays. It is late on Friday afternoon when she finds herself on Serena's bed flipping through the latest edition of Vogue absentmindedly, twinning a strand of chestnut hair around her finger.

"So, are you gonna tell me what is wrong, or are you gonna keep pretending to read that?" Serena questions, interrupting her search for the perfect dress to wear for an upcoming charity event, motioning the magazine in front of her.

Hearing her best friend point out that there is indeed something wrong she can no longer keep the tears she has been fighting since she got there.

"B, come on, what is wrong? You can tell me" Serena offers, sitting down beside her and putting her arm around her shoulders.

She lets out a small sob before pulling herself together, willing the tears away as she rests her head on the blonde's shoulder.

"Something is wrong" Her voice comes close to breaking and she has to pause and clear her throat before continuing;

"He has all these meeting with lawyers and board members and God-knows-who. And it is tearing on him I can tell, but he doesn't talk to me anymore."

"But maybe it is just business, you know, maybe he doesn't want to bore you with it" Serena offers, squeezing her shoulders.

Sitting up straight, wiping away the tears as she looks over to Serena disbelievingly, not buying her attempt to explain Chuck's behaviour for a second. She can feel in her gut that there is something more behind his distant behaviour, how she feels like he hasn't looked her properly in the eyes for days, how she can tell that he is not really there anymore. How he has somehow managed to put parts of his old walls back up without her noticing.

Cursing herself for not being there when it happened.

"That is not it, S, I can tell. What if he is just bored with me and doesn't know how to tell me?"

The words cut like spears and she can barely say them out loud, but they have been nagging on her insides for days and she is afraid that if she keeps them locked up she will loose her mind.

"That is crazy, B" Serena objects "He is head over heels for you, anyone can testify to that! You guys even have Gossip Girl gagging about your lovesick displays as school." Gently nudging her as she reminds her of a Gossip Girl post from the other day.

"I guess you are right…" She sighs "I just wish he would tell me what is wrong."

"Since when do you take 'no' for an answer?" Serena points out "You are Blair Waldorf, make him talk! Look, why don't you stay here tonight and then try again tomorrow."

Getting to her feet Serena nods to the closet, knowing that she will be keen to change the subject, not usually the one to let her guard down like this.

"Now, what do you think B? The blue Zac Posen or the Balmain…"

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

The next morning she finds him with Nate outside St Jude's. The lump in her throat instantly replaced with the fluttery feeling she gets every time she lays eyes on him, the feeling so strong that it still catches her by surprise sometimes.

Taking him in as he stands next to his blonde best friend, leaning his back against the brick wall and smoking a cigarette. She has to bite her lip to prevent herself from smiling like a lovesick fool, reminding herself of the vast amount of camera phones present on the steps of Constance and St Jude's.

Walking up to the two boys she looks over to Nate in a quiet hello before turning her attention towards Chuck. He puts his cigarette out as she moves in next to him. Holding on to the ends of his scarf as she brushes her thumb over the pin attached to it, putting her mouth close to his ear.

"Hey" she whispers, her lips trailing his jaw from his ear to his mouth. "I missed you last night."

There is a hint of a smirk on his face from her remark but he doesn't reply with some seedy comment like she thought he would – like he normally would. Instead he kisses her absentmindedly, not really looking her in the eyes as he pulls away. The action sending a wave of panic through her veins. Glancing over to her best friend she can tell that Serena is catching on to what she was telling her about and finally understanding her concern.

"Meet me after school?" She offers, catching his eyes with hers and lifting her brow in question.

"I have a meeting" His answers shortly and as if he realizes himself just how harsh he is sounding he pulls her closer and sliding his hand around her neck he kisses her again, properly this time. The way that makes the flutter more prominent, matching the tingles running down her spine.

"After that then?" She continues, determined not to give up that easily. "Call me when you are done?"

With the bells ringing they are suddenly in a hurry. The steps emptying quickly as the students still out there rush inside. As the four of them start heading inside she reaches out for his hand as they start walking, expecting to find it reaching out for hers as usual. Another swirl of panic as she finds herself grasping for nothing but air, leaving her frozen to the spot, calling out for him hesitantly.

"Chuck..?"

"Sure…" He responds to her question about calling her later, once again seemingly lost in thought.

"Chuck?!" She repeats, trying to remind him of what it is that he is forgetting about. Tiny needles pricking and poking at the palm of her hand.

"I said sure!" He snaps, not looking back as he hurries after Nate. Leaving her standing on the steps, Serena besides her - looking as perplex as she is feeling.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She doesn't see him at all during the day. Lunch is spent plotting against an unusually bold new transfer named Molly that has gotten the idea that she can take whatever liberties she wishes with her dating life. The newbie will learn her place quickly, she might be worried sick about him but she can still muster the strength to handle her Queen B duties.

When school is out for the day she returns home by herself, declining Serena's invitation to go shopping, making excuses and telling her friends that she has a headache. Leaving her bag in her room she suddenly finds herself wishing that she hadn't. Wanting something to keep her busy she harasses Dorota for a while. Driving the maid into frenzy before finding a thick envelope on the kitchen counter containing the photos from their holiday in Rome.

Suddenly feeling a lot more upbeat she spends a good amount of time looking through the pictures and smiling at the memories. Delighted with how perfect they look together. Putting the pictures away, making a mental note to get some of them framed, she suddenly realizes that it is getting late. And that she still hasn't beard from him.

Checking her phone she realizes that it is close to seven, surely he must be done with his meeting at this point? Annoyed by her own neurotic girlfriend behaviour as she pushes number one on her speed dial to call him.

There is no answer.

Frustrated, she hits redial only to have the call go to voicemail once again. With an exasperated sigh she disconnects the call and texts him. Thinking he might have been held up, telling him to call her back.

An hour later she is getting worried. Calling him again without any luck she then opts for solution number two. Pushing number three on her speed dial.

"Hello?"

"Nate, have you heard from Chuck?" She questions him, not bothering with pleasantries.

"No, not since this afternoon in school, why?"

"I can't get a hold of him."

"But he had a meeting, maybe he just got held up?"

Hearing Nate voice her own thoughts she realizes that they are both probably right, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach just won't disappear.

"I know, but…" She trails off, drawing for breath before continuing, allowing herself to let her guard down a little further and be completely honest with him "I am worried."

"Alright" He sighs and she can tell that he is starting to wonder too, not used to her admitting such things, knowing she wouldn't if she wasn't really worried. "I will go by Victrola. You check at the Palace. Talk to you later."

And with those words they hang up and get on with their mission.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She is heading for the elevator at the Palace - leaving the floor where Chuck's seemingly empty suite is situated - when there is a message from Nate on her phone:

**Victrola. U should**** get here**

**- N**

It is in that second that she goes from kind of worried to really worried.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Arriving at Victrola, the place mostly filled with after workers at this time of day, she easily spots the two boys sitting in the private area right in front of the stage. Nate's profile is easy to recognize even in the dim lights of the club and she can only assume that the dark figure next to him is Chuck.

Walking up to them she sits down and quickly comes to two conclusions; A – they are both drunk, and B – Chuck is not in a good mood. Make that a horrible mood, he is practically radiating anger.

"At last" He acknowledges lazily "The second part of the Rescue Rangers come to aid."

Motioning the slightly intoxicated Nate as he continues;

"Maybe you will be better at keeping up than Dale over there" He continues, letting out hollow chuckle as he compares his friend to the free spirited chipmunk from the TV-show.

Ignoring his ill-tempered comment she turns to Nate;

"What do you think you are doing? I said find him, not 'get drunk in a bar with him'"

"He told me he would leave if I didn't do shots" Nate explains, shrugging his shoulders drunkenly "Didn't think you'd want him to…"

"Wow, Nathaniel, even after all this time she still has you whipped." He snorts, and she can feel the anger starting to simmer, replacing the worry.

"What is wrong with you?" She questions him "You were supposed to call me, remember?"

"I got held up. Now if you don't mind, I am not really in the mood for a pity party"

And the look he is giving her is filled with venom and it makes her insides crumble at first, but she blocks the feeling out and concentrates on the anger.

"I should probably get going" Nate explains getting to his feet, swaying a little. "I told Vanessa I would meet up with her."

The comment causing Chuck to sneer, looking over to Nate with a highly amused look in his glassy, cold eyes.

"So whipped" He smirks as Nate makes his departure, leaving the two of them by themselves.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Concentrating on staying angry, blocking everything else she stares him down. "Why are you being such an ass?"

"Oh just let it go, Waldorf" He spits "I have had enough off crap from people today."

"Do you wanna talk about getting crap? She spits back "What about you standing me up to get drunk in your stupid club?"

"I am merely celebrating finishing my college applications" He goes on, the venom in his voice matching the look in his eyes. "You see…" He begins to explain, sitting up straight and gesturing with his arm. The movement causing the liquid in his glass to swirl over the rim of the glass and leave dark stains on the velvet covering the sofa.

"…the power hungry vultures at Bass Industries have gracefully informed me of the conditions of the will - which also happens to be the new 'guide to the life of Chuck Bass – the black sheep that can't be trusted to do anything right' - that happens to include trivial details as college."

Stopping momentarily to take a swig from the glass. "So, if you mind sparing me your pity and your accusations - you can get yourself a drink. Otherwise, you should know your way out of here by now."

His last words is what throws her over the edge, the last remaining streaks of compassion and worry gone in an instant. She grabs a hold of his hand, causing more of the glass' content to spill, earning her a cold look from him.

"Office" her voice is calm but laced with anger. "Now"

"Let go of me" He snaps, but does actually get to his feet. "Fine, if you won't leave then I will. I am done here anyways."

As he prepares to leave she quickly gets to her feet and with a quick movement she resolutely grabs a hold of a few locks of his hair and starts walking, forcing him to follow her.

"Fuck! Let go of me, Waldorf" He hisses as she heads for his office in the back rooms of the club, dragging him along with her.

Once inside the dimly lit office and with the door shut, she lets go the action sending him stumbling.

"What is wrong with you?!" She yells because honestly, she has had enough of his behaviour and her feelings are all over the place.

He doesn't reply, bringing the glass still in his hand to his lips to empty it of the last drops.

"Are you deaf? I said what the HELL is wrong with you?!" There is no holding back now; she is close to seeing red. Angry, annoyed and fed up.

Demanding an answer and an explanation.

As he merely stands there, his back turned against her, she finds herself running out of patience and is just about to retrieve the grip of his hair and shove his head against the brick wall to get a reaction out of him.

He then suddenly comes to life and hurls the tumbler he is holding in the wall with all his force.

The sudden movement causing her to jump and sending her adrenaline rushing in her blood stream, she can only watch as he throws himself towards the small bar in the corner of the room, sending the crystal tumblers and bottles there flying, liquor staining the walls and the carpeting.

The sound of crystal shattering drowning out the music form the club as he moves on to the desk. Sending the content on top of it flying as well. Hurling the lap top into the bookshelves behind the desk before he stops just as suddenly as he begun.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She stands by the door, frozen to the spot with her heart racing in her chest, shocked by his sudden physical outburst. She barely dares to move but jumps again as a binder hits the wall just inches away from her. Her thoughts racing through her head in a pace matching the one set by her heart. When he stops it is like watching the moments after the storm and the silence is ringing in her head.

But it only lasts for a few seconds.

"Happy?!" He spits out, sending a paper weight still on top of the desk to the floor before turning around abruptly, heading for the door and where she is standing.

She is blocking his access to the door and as she tries to keep him from passing by he looses it again.

"ARE YOU HAPPY NOW, HUH? WALDORF?" He yells, his face mere inches from hers and she can smell the alcohol on his breath. The look in his eyes sending chills down her spine.

"No" Her voice breaks. She can feel the tears welling up as the shock eases off, and as she reaches out for him - placing her hand on his arm – she realizes that she is shaking. "No, I am not, Chuck…"

"Let go of me!"

Pushing her hand away he makes another attempt to get past her. When she once again gets in his way, gripping his shirt, trying to get a hold of his arm to prevent him from leaving, he breaks loose once again.

"I said LET GO OFF ME!"

As he comes close to shoving her off of him she lets go of his shirt and when he pulls away for a third time she doesn't do anything to stop him. Doesn't know what to do, all anger gone she is no longer able to block out the pain and the tears.

But as he bolts through the door she is quick to follow him, the pain mixed with determination as she runs after him. Leaving the office and rushing past the bar, struggling to keep up with him she suddenly misses a step and finds herself tumbling to the floor. Letting out a cry as she twists her ankle and a flash of pain shots through her ankle and up her leg.

Calling out for him her words get lost in the music and all she can do is watch him through the tears as he disappears out of sight

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She doesn't stop crying when one of the waitresses rushes over to her to see if she is alright. She doesn't stop when two horrified bankers help her to her feet and she slowly attempts to put some weight on her throbbing ankle. She doesn't stop when the bartender calls her a cab or when the waitress helps her out of the bar and into the car.

The cab driver shoots her a worried glance as she gets her phone out and calls Serena. When her friend picks up the phone she merely sobs in response, no longer able to speak from crying too hard.

"B? Are you on your way here?"

Serena questions upon hearing her crying and all she can muster is a broken "yes". As the cab pulls over the blonde is already outside waiting. Collapsing in her friend's arms it takes a while before she finally settles enough for Serena to lead her through the lobby. As they reach the penthouse she collapses in a heap in one of the arm chairs, her tears re-emerging.

Serena sitting down on the arm rest next to her and putting her arms around her shaking frame in the same moment as Lily walks through the door, stunned by the scene playing out in front of her.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Later on she settles enough to start talking and she begins telling her friend about the recent events with pain clear in her voice whilst Lily has room service bring up an ice pack for her bruised ankle.

"I can't believe he did that" Serena hisses; quick to take her side against Chuck.

"No…" She objects instantly - just as quick to be in his. "Don't blame him."

As she continues she can not keep the tears from welling up again "I told him I would run after him." Her voice breaks and she lets out a tired and defeated sob, burying her face in her hands.

"I told him I would run after him and I didn't."

* * *

_tbc_


	17. I Hate This

_First of all, I'm sorry this took so long! I've had the craziest week ever..but to make it up to you, this is the longest chapter I've ever written for this story! _

_Originally, next chapter was supposed to be the last one...but I have some ideas for stuff I wanna deal with. So right now I'm thinking three more chapters or so. I like the thought of 20 chapters :)_

_The lyrics are **Coldplay - "Lost!"** You should totally listen to it, I've had it on repeat pretty much the whole time I spent writing this..._

* * *

_"Just because I'm losing_

_Doesn't mean I'm lost_

_Doesn't mean I'll stop_

_Doesn't mean I would cross_

_Just because I'm hurting_

_Doesn't mean I'm hurt_

_Doesn't mean I didn't get_

_What I deserved_

_No better and no worse_

_I just got lost_

_Every river that I tried to cross_

_Every door I ever tried was locked_

_And I'm,_

_just waiting 'til the shine wears off"_

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

He is running. The anger that is raging inside of him keeps him from noticing how he is straining for breath. The sound of his feet against the pavement deafened by the sound of his heart beating furiously in his chest.

When he finally slows down the streets are dark and unfamiliar. Collapsing onto the stairs of an old brownstone he is gasping for air. The fire inside of him slowly fading only to settle in an ever present glow as his heart rate settles and his lungs no longer have to fight for air.

Fading away, only to be replaced with a gut-wrenching guilt. An emotion so fierce that it leaves him feeling like there is a lead weight in his chest, pushing him down into a black hole.

He gets to his feet and starts walking. The freezing wind numbing his face, leaving him cold down to the bone. Not knowing where he is or where he is going but just in a dire need to keep moving. Fearing that if he stops the weight in his chest will push him further down and have him swallowed by the ground.

He has no idea of how long he has been walking when he finds himself in familiar surroundings once more - standing outside of the building housing the central office of Bass Industries. The irony of the situation has him close to laughing as he tilts his head up, taking in the outline of the building against the dark winter sky.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

_He__ attended the meeting with the board of Bass Industries held earlier that day. Summoned by the members of the board with the intention to 'discuss' the conditions of his father's will and the immediate future of the company. He thinks of it as attending, not participating, because he found himself listening to them discussing donations to a range of prominent colleges without really letting him in on the matter of the discussion. Debating whether or not Wharton was in need of a new library or what would be most successful when considering Harvard. Confused at first, then stunned as they finally brought him into conversation by sliding some papers across the table for him to sign. That being their way of informing him that he was applying to every one of the colleges mentioned, surely a little late but that 'could always be arranged'. At the same time letting him know that there was no way they would trust him to get in on his own, hence the generous donations._

_Because that was a condition in Bart Bass' will – that his son was not to take over the company until he had finished his college education. In the meantime he would simply be kept a bystander, the company run by the board and with representation chosen by Bart himself watching over his son's interests. Upon finishing college – with a degree of course – he would be given the majority share of Bass Industries only after a noviciate which would be closely monitored by the board – as ordered by his father – and then only if he met the expectations of the board. There would be no jeopardizing Bart Bass' empire by trusting it to his black sheep of a son. They hadn't said that last part out loud of course, but it was easy to tell what they were all thinking._

_He might have caused a bit of a scene, refusing to sign some of the already filled in applications – complete with essays and all – and storming off after giving__ them a piece of his mind but he didn't care. A part of him had been expecting something like this to happen, he knew very well how low his father's expectations was when it came to his son. _

_But he hadn't anticipated__ the pain it caused to have it shoved in his face by a pompous group of board members consisting of his father's old friends and business partners. Seeing it on print in his father's will, realizing that his father might be gone, but he still remained in control of his life. That he truly hadn't believed much in him, at least not enough to entrust him with his legacy without making the arrangement fool-proof. The pain mixing with the anger that had been glowing inside him for days - for reasons he didn't quite understand - had him heading for Victrola, heading for oblivion. _

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

It is late when he finally returns to the Palace. Taking the elevator up to his suite he can feel his skin burning from the contact with the warm temperature inside the building. As he lies down on the bed his mind is racing, the scene from Victrola playing over and over as he stares blankly out into the dark room. His own hurtful comments, Blair's anger and worry, the sound of glass breaking accompanying the ringing in his ears, her begging him to stay, him yelling at the top of his lungs.

He never wanted this. He has been fighting this fire for a long time, wishing it away, loathing himself and his actions as he could tell she was confused. Still he was to busy fighting the fire glowing inside of him to stop and let her in. Fearing that if he did he would simply combust and bring her out with him.

So when the trials of the day had him on the verge of erupting he stayed away from her. But she found him and he burst into flames just like he had feared he would. The flames taking over his mind pushing everything else out he desperately attempted to push her away to keep her from being hurt.

Remembering the tears in her eyes and the tremble of her hand on his arm he knows that he didn't succeed in his attempts. He couldn't _not_ hurt her, keep her safe.

He fucked up. Again.

The guilt and regret inviting the black nothingness back into his chest has him wanting nothing more than to drown out every memory, every lucid thought. Every single fibre of his being screaming for oblivion.

Yet he doesn't move, doesn't stir. Because he feels in his gut that he doesn't deserve it. Therefore he doesn't allow himself the escape, to be numb or to fall asleep. Instead he stays in his position on the bed, staring out into the room as the stars fade, the dark sky brightens and the weak winter sun rises over the horizon and brightens the colours of the room. Replaying the scene over and over in his head, feeling the cold lump aching in his chest.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

A knock on the door is what brings him out of the haze. Confused at first, not quite able to put two and two together the person at the door knocks again as he gets to his feet and hurries over to the door. His whole body sore and aching, flashes of pain shooting through his head causing him to wince.

When there is a quiet hopeful voice in the back of his mind reminding him of how she said she would run after him, he tells it to shut up. Still he is a little disappointed and more than a little surprised as he opens the door;

Outside his room is Lily, dressed in a red trouser-suit and holding two steaming cups of coffee. A frown on her face as she eyes him down, no doubt looking for signs of drunken debauchery. He stands there, allowing her scrutiny in silence, until she hands over one of the coffees to him and walks past him and into the suite.

"You are up" She states, walking over to the couch, sitting down. Clearly expecting him to follow.

He doesn't, but remains standing by the door. Worried since he can guess the reason of her visit. Afraid she has come to tell her that Blair wants nothing to do with him, that he needs to stay away, to confirm that he truly fucked up for the last time.

"That requires going to sleep in the first place." He replies, pushing the fear away, taking a sip of the coffee. Feeling the hot beverage heating his body as he walks up to where she is sitting, taking a seat on the coffee table opposite her, holding on to the cup with both hands. Aching to ask her about Blair.

"Long night?" She cocks her eyebrow in question. "You are not the only one."

As he looks up to her with the guilt evident on his face she explains; "She stayed with Serena last night. Not that she would have come far with that bruised ankle of hers."

"What?" He blurts out in surprise at her words.

"She fell and hurt her ankle as she was running after you" Lily explains calmly.

"She did? She shouldn't have…" Ignoring the flutter in his heart upon hearing about her running after him, reminding himself once again that he doesn't deserve it.

"She said she had promised." Frowning as she continues; "You behave so much like your father sometimes."

It is like a slap across the face. Getting to his feet in a hurry he walks over to the windows, needing the physical distance between him and her words. The wounds from yesterday still raw and aching.

"No, that didn't come out right" Lily is quick to soothe as she sees his expression changing, darkening. Realizing how the comparison hurts him.

In a perfect world being compared to your father wouldn't be considered offensive and amongst the worst things you could ever be told, but his world is far from perfect. His upbringing and his relationship with his father not even close to perfect.

"What I meant to say was…he taught you well." She continues, walking up to him, ignoring the vicious look he is giving her.

"I loved your father so I believe that I am entitled to say this…" The sad smile on her face letting him now she is being completely honest with him "…truth is he was never the one to show emotion, to trust in people and let them in. So he didn't treat you right, _teach_ you right. His inabilities created messy situations more than once."

He is shocked by her words, this is far from what he expected her to say - or feel – and he is at a loss for words. Looking at her as she sips her coffee before continuing;

"But he rarely ever dealt with the messes he created himself. He always used money to get out of situations or to make them go away."

A bitter look in her eyes as she reminisces "You do, Chuck. You cleaned up your mess with Blair, with Eric…" She doesn't mention herself but he realizes she might as well have. "…that makes you more of a man than your father ever was..."

There are no words for the storm of mixed emotions swirling inside of him and even if he could break loose from the paralysis that seem to have come over him he isn't sure he would know what to say.

"Because you have learned - without his help - what is truly important, what really matters. Still…" She lets out a breath "…like I said - your father taught you well. It can be impossible to read you sometimes, to know what you are thinking or feeling. You shut people out on pure instinct, but there is one person who can read you like an open book." She reminds him, reaching out and putting her hand on his arm.

"And she likes the story."

With those words she turns to leave. When she speaks again he looks up in surprise, brought back from his racing mind;

"Oh, I almost forgot, you should have this." She says, reaching for something inside her purse "I found this in your father's briefcase."

She hands him what looks like a slim binder made out of black leather – the surface scratched at places and the corners tarnished. It looks like the cover of an old favourite book that has been travelling the world with its owner, but it isn't a book, it is far too slim and there are no pages in between the leather cover.

He slowly reaches out and takes it from her. His hand grasping around the soft leather as he realizes that it isn't a binder but a travel picture frame.

"I thought you could keep it next to the other one, in your bedroom." She explains in a not so subtle invitation. Reminding him of his now empty room in the penthouse with an affectionate smile and tilt of her head.

With those words she heads for the door once again and as he watches her walk he suddenly regains his voice;

"Lily?" Some of the emotions rushing through him clearly audible in his voice as she turns back around to look at him.

"Thank you" He doesn't know what else to say and the words feel far from enough, but she just smiles wider;

"Anytime."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

He remains standing by the window, watching the cars and the people walking down on the sidewalk. It is a sunny and bright winter day and the sky is a light blue colour. It takes a while for his mind to stop spinning and as it does he is filled with determination. Quickly showering and changing his clothes before leaving the suite.

When he arrives at Blair's apartment he finds it empty. Greeted by Dorota, who is much too friendly to have been let in on the events of last night, informing him that "Miss Blair is at Miss Serena's", he surprises her when he asks her if he can stay and wait. The maid in her turn surprising him by allowing him to.

Walking up the stairs to Blair's bedroom he tries calling her, only to have the call go straight to voicemail. Ignoring the wave of panic as the sound of the mechanic voice echoes in his head.

As he enters her room her scent invades his senses and the flutter in his stomach is stronger than in a long time. Despite not being able to fully push out the guilt and sadness it still causes him to let out a breath he wasn't aware of holding.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Her ankle is still sore when she wakes up and gets out of bed. Walking around Serena's room slowly as the stiffness decreases she then reaches out for her phone, eager to get a hold of him. She wouldn't have waited this long had she been allowed to make the decision for herself, but with both Serena and Lily informing her that she was under no circumstances allowed out of their home until morning she didn't really have a choice, too exhausted from crying to muster the strength to fight the stubborn blondes.

Finding her phone she finds that the battery is out. Glancing over to her still sleeping best friend before she gets dressed quietly and leaves.

Getting out of the elevator and stepping into her home she can hear Dorota vacuuming further down the hall. Knowing that her mother and Cyrus are out of town she tiptoes through the empty rooms and up the stairs to her room. Not in the mood to answer any questions or spend half an hour being fuzzed over by a worried Dorota. The scene that greets upon entering her bedroom sends a rush of fluttering through her entire body that has her smiling with relief.

Because on her bed lies the most important person in her life, fast asleep. Quietly kicking off her shoes she sneaks across the room and joins him on the bed, careful not to wake him up as she moves in closer to him. Her body mirroring his as they lay face to face.

He doesn't wake up and she takes the opportunity to look at him as he sleeps. Taking advantage of the rare opportunity to admire him without him cocking his eyebrow smugly and making some comment about her obvious appreciation of his looks. Dark eyelashes, strong jaw and chiselled cheekbones, his hair dishevelled and a slight frown on his forehead. As she reaches out to smooth the crease with the pad of her thumb he reacts to her touch by reaching out for her and pulling her closer, still asleep. Her heart skipping a beat in pure joy she nuzzles closer to him, breathing in the scent of his cologne and that which is just him.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Her presence invades his sleep and when he wakes up he already knows that she is there. Opening his eyes he finds himself looking straight into her dark eyes.

"I am sorry" They utter the words in unison and he is startled.

"Why are you apologizing?" He questions her vigorously "I am the one who should be sorry, I am so sorry. I know that is not…"

"I forgive you" She interrupts him "if you forgive me for treating you like a petulant five year-old."

"I got what I deserved. I can't believe I did that..." He goes on, ignoring her attempt to take part in the blame

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

He looks so sad and guilty it melts her heart, running her fingers through his hair as she leans in and puts her lips on his, silencing him.

"Talk to me?" She offers, still nervous about where this conversation might lead them.

There is a following silence and she can tell that he is struggling to find the words. When he diverts his gaze she puts her hand on his cheek. A silent appeal for him to look at her, to let her in.

"I…I am just so angry all the time" He finally says, locking eyes with her "I am so angry I can barely breathe." The frustration returns to his voice and she can feel the muscles of his jaw tensing, a fire burning behind the softness in his eyes. She doesn't ask any questions but waits for him to continue.

"…and it doesn't go away. Because every time I am with you, you make everything right but then it just creeps up on me and it feels like I am tainting you." The venom is back in his voice and she can sense his whole body tense up as he continues, talking faster now and with more emphasis on his words.

"So for some ludicrous reason I end up blaming you, when I know it has nothing to do with you because you are perfect! I hate myself for even thinking of blaming you and it just gets to the point where I can't stand it. And I hate him!"

When he speaks those final words it is as if everything falls into place inside her head and she finally understands where he is coming from. She can finally believe that it has got nothing to do with her.

"He was a lousy excuse for a father for most of my life, he never thought good of me and I believed him. I wanted to prove him wrong so badly, but he died. He fucking died!" He snaps, the fire in his eyes burning stronger now "But he still manages to control my life and make me feel like I can't do anything right."

He goes on explaining the events that ended up with him lashing out on her at the office in Victrola. Spitting out the story in short sentences laced with anger and hurt;

"And I will never be able to prove him wrong or make things right between us because he is gone, and I hate this! I HATE HIM!"

There is more hurt than venom in his voice as he utters those final words. His eyes burning and breath strained he clenches his fists shut.

Burying his face in the pillows as the frustration and anger takes over, he lets out a roar. Yelling at the top of his lungs, punching the mattress with his fist.

She watches in silence, forcing herself not to reach out to stop him or try getting him to calm down. When he quietens down and his hand is resting on the bed, she moves her hand up his back and shoulders soothingly before resting her hand on his neck like she has done before. Tangling her fingers in his hair.

"I hate this." The sound of his voice is muffled - his face still buried in the pillows. "I hate this…" He repeats and as he turns his head to face her, his eyes are wet.

"I hate him…but I still miss him." She can barely hear what he is saying, his voice a defeated whisper as a tear makes it way down his cheek. And he looks so hurt in that moment that it breaks her heart.

"I know you do" She whispers back, inching closer and putting her arm around him. He closes his eyes as a few more tears make their way down his cheeks and she brushes them of, leaning her forehead against his.

"It is okay for you to be angry, Chuck, I can handle it." She points out to him after a while when he opens his eyes again. "Just talk to me."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

They fall asleep on her bed, both exhausted. As they wake up she spots the picture frame he doesn't remember bringing with him on her bedside table.

"What is that?"

"Lily gave it to me, it belonged to my father. I haven't looked inside yet."

Pulling herself up into a sitting position she leans her back against the headboard of the bed and reaches out for it. Handing it over to him in silent anticipation as he sits up next to her.

"She found it in his briefcase" He explains, then goes quiet as he opens it revealing the two pictures inside. A lump of mixed emotions forming in his throat. In the first picture he finds both his parents smiling at him. Bart standing behind his pregnant wife, his arm wrapped protectively around her growing belly. They look deliriously happy and he realizes that he has never seen his father like that. Happy, hopeful and completely at ease.

As she lets out a soft laugh he looks over to the other picture. Recognizing himself as a toddler. The picture zoomed in on him dressed up in a white shirt, dark messy hair and chubby cheeks as he sits resting against the arm of the person whose lap he is on. A shirt clad hand resting on his leg. The wristwatch peeking out from under the shirt is the only thing that gives away the identity of the man.

His father never took it of. The platinum Breitling having been a wedding gift from his mother it became as close to a signature piece as his own scarf.

"He kept it with him." She smiles, placing a soft, tender kiss on his neck. "I never realized you look that much like her."

He knew. He has always been painfully aware of exactly how much he resembles his mother. Having her point out the same thing is far from painful; "You think?" He replies. Wanting to hear those words again, a comparison that doesn't send chills down his spine.

"Yes, you do. You have her lips." She smiles, leaning in for a kiss. "And her eyes." Resting her head on his shoulder, intertwining their fingers. "She was beautiful."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

They are holding hands as the elevator stops at the penthouse. Stepping out she almost drags him over the threshold and smiles at Lily as she walks up to them, apparently on her way out. A smile of understanding between herself and Lily as he opens his mouth to speak;

"I brought Blair…" He says, obviously asking for permission for her to stay.

"Of course" Lily smiles "We have plenty of room for family."

As they walk into his "old" bedroom he walks over to the window, placing the frame he is holding next to the bigger one that is already there. When she closes the door behind them and locks the door he looks over to her. A flirtatious smirk on her lips as she walks up to where he is standing between the bed and the window. Looking over to his bed she puts her arms around his neck before turning her attention to him - grinning;

"So this is your bed, huh?"

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*


	18. Call 911

"_So this is your bed, huh?"_

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Returning her grin he bows his head down to brush his lips against hers. Allowing his hands to roam freely over her curves as the kiss deepens. The sound escaping her lips encouraging him, sending a wave of heat straight down to his crotch. She is unbuttoning his shirt, biting down gently on his earlobe as she pulls the shirt off his shoulders and then moves her attention to the buckle of his belt. Letting out a groan as she impatiently slides her hand down further. Her impatience spreading to him he pushes her down gently onto the bed, covering her body with his.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Later on she is lying comfortably with her head resting on his shoulder, her fingers drawing invisible patterns on his chest. When the hand that has been toying lazily with a curl of her hair comes to rest on her upper arm and he lets out a sigh, she lifts her head up and looks at him.

"Tired, huh?" A smug smile on her face upon finding him half asleep. As he merely glances over to her with narrowed eyes, she sits up pressing her lips against his temple. The heated skin replacing the smug look on her face with one of surprise "You are burning up!"

"Well, you are not bad yourself Waldorf." He smirks.

"Funny" She answers with furrowed brows "Be serious - are you feeling okay?"

"I feel fine."

"You might be coming down with something." She goes on, placing her hand on his forehead worriedly.

"Forget it" He smirks, pulling away from her hand "I might go down" Ignoring the somewhat appalled grimace from her as he continues; "…but there will be no coming down with anything." He establishes before adding;

"I'm Chuck Bass"

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"I'm dying."

The words come out in a whining voice and she tries her best not to smile at the formless shape in the bed that is her feverish boyfriend. When she doesn't fully succeed he shoots her a murderous look before letting out another whiny noise.

"I guess I could say I told you so…but I guess I will go for; that is what you get from running around half of New York in nothing but a shirt and slacks."

"Call 911" He wails, curling into a ball underneath the sheets. A tuft of dark hair and the hand holding on to the covers the only visible parts of him.

"Don't be such a baby." She says jauntily, adjusting the belt of her coat before sitting down beside him on the bed. Running her fingers through his hair she can tell that he really does have a fever. "You will live to see another day, Bass. It is probably just a 24 hour thing."

"Just a 'thing', my ass!" He sulks, pulling down the covers a little to look at her. Red nosed and puffy eyed "I probably have pneumonia or hepatitis or anthrax poisoning…"

She can't help the laugh from spilling out at his last suggestion but pulls herself together when he hides under the covers again, letting out an insulted whine. She does feel a little sorry for him, even though he is acting like such a cliché, and pulling the covers away from his face she strokes his cheek comfortingly, deciding to be nice and play along;

"I'm sorry baby" She coos, planting a kiss on his bare shoulder, avoiding any contaminated areas. Cold or no cold, she doesn't want to end up in a feverish heap as well. "Just get some sleep and you will be fine in no time."

"I will come back after school to check on you" She promises before getting to her feet.

"You might as well go straight to the emergency room, because that is where I will be by then." He snorts, burying his face in the pillows and she has to bite her lip - desperately trying not to start laughing again.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

She knows that he is exaggerating. She knows that he is acting like a five year-old. Still it doesn't keep her from leaving Constance during lunch, skipping class for the rest of the day, an action so unlike her that Serena just stares at her disbelievingly as she gathers her things and leaves.

He is asleep when she enters his room. Sitting down next to him she reaches out and puts her hand on his forehead, satisfied as she can tell that his temperature has definitely gone down since that morning.

"Blair?" He mumbles sleepily. Opening his eyes a little he to look at her. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

"Well I couldn't possibly leave you and your anthrax poisoning unattended for the whole day, could I?" She smiles as he rubs his face to wake up properly. "I got Serena to cover for me and besides, I'm only missing out on French and P.E."

"I guess we could always make sure the P.E part gets covered" He suggests in a low tone and the sparkle in his eyes is just another indication to his recovery.

Ignoring his proposal she lifts up the brown paper bag she brought with her off the floor and puts it down on the table beside his bed.

"A paper bag? Is this some new, kinky game of yours, Waldorf?"

"Keep dreaming, Bass." She replies, reaching inside the bag. "Here we go; orange juice – and no I will not add vodka…" The disappointed look on his face lets her know she was right in making that clear from the start. "Waffles, ice cream and…" Dropping the ice cream carton on the bed and reaching inside the now almost empty bag. "…the original Ocean's Eleven on DVD."

"Breakfast and ice cream?"

"Shut up"

Succeeding in keeping herself from sticking her tongue out at him - apparently he isn't the only one with manners of a five year-old at the moment. "Dorota always use to make me waffles when I was sick" She explains, smiling at the memory "…and daddy says that ice cream can fix anything."

"Those waffles are frozen. What happened to making them yourself?" He points out teasingly then continuing on in mock horror "You know what, scratch that. I don't want to die from food poisoning."

He is snorting with laughter as she shoves him indignantly. Then she heads to the kitchen to toast the frozen waffles and get some glasses and spoons. Returning to his room just as he in his turn returns to bed after putting the DVD in the player, still wearing nothing but boxers.

Looking so, accessible, she briefly considers risking contamination.

Joining him on the bed she hands him a glass of juice and sits down on top of the covers next to him, placing the plate of waffles on his lap. Ignoring him cocking his eyebrow in question when she doesn't join him under the covers.

"You look a little flushed" he smirks "Maybe you should get rid of that heavy clothing of yours." He suggests with feigned innocence, eyeing her approvingly.

"I'm fine" She replies faintly choosing to ignore his obvious invitation, reaching out for a waffle "Now watch the movie."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Soon they are both caught up in what is going on, on the screen. Her head once again resting on his shoulder. The movie ends half way through the ice cream.

"Feeling better?" She questions, looking over at him as he is busy scooping up some half melted ice cream.

Letting out a surprised shriek as he answers by intentionally dropping the ice cream on his spoon into the neckline of her blouse. Grinning as he leans over to _help_ her get rid of the melting goo. Proving just how much better he is feeling.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

* * *


	19. Not Today

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

It is a beautiful and sunny spring day in New York. On of those first days of spring when the weather heats up and the world is suddenly radiating and looking its best.

She wakes up in her own bedroom, alone, and with an uneasy feeling in her gut. Nervous and wishing that he was there. Getting ready in a hurry before leaving her bedroom.

Exiting her building she waves down a cab as she pulls out her phone, texting Serena.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

**To: Serena**

**Have U**** seen him today?**

**- B**

**To: Blair**

**No**

**- S**

**To: Serena**

**He is in there, right****?**

**- B**

**To: Blair**

**Sounded like him telling me to fuck off a few seconds ago****. **

**U here soon?**

**- S**

**To: Serena**

**On my way**

**- B**

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

They meet in the lobby and she greets her best friend with a hug.

"So, are we still on for tonight?" Serena asks her hesitantly, obviously having some doubts concerning their plans for the evening. "My mom was wondering since he…"

"Yes." She is quick to answer, staring the blonde down as she interrupts her; she really doesn't need Serena all ready to surrender when she is this nervous herself. "We most certainly are."

"Alright, B. Look, I have to get going or I will be late for class. See you tonight then." Serena says, getting the message and sounding a little less doubtful, hugging her again. "Good luck?"

"No need." She replies, eager to convince both Serena and herself that everything will be just fine. It has to be. Forcing a bright and worry-free smile before heading for the elevator.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

The penthouse is seemingly empty as she walks in, no one there at this time of the day. A note to him from Lily on the table in the living room has her smiling, taking it with her as she heads for his room.

The room is dark, the blinds pulled down keeping most of the daylight out. She is standing in the doorway waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim light when his voice breaks the silence.

"Didn't anyone teach you that breaking and entering is a crime, Waldorf?"

Normally a comment like that one would have come out in a joking tone, most likely accompanied by one of those devilish smirks that melt her insides.

"Guess I belong in handcuffs then." She replies but without batting her lashes or attempting to push his buttons a little.

Not today.

Today is nothing about sly remarks, nothing about winding the other one up and everything about remaining the same. Everything about sticking to what they know best even if it is hollow and a little forced.

"You have school." He states matter-of-factly and as her eyes adjust to the lack of light she can make out the shape of him on the bed.

"I called in sick." She is still standing in the doorway, hesitating a little, unsure of what to do.

"You seem fine to me."

"Do you want me to leave?"

She wants to take it back as soon as the words escape her mouth. A part of her terrified that he will say yes, or ask her why she even bothered coming in the first place. When he remains silent, not answering her question, she lets out a breath she wasn't aware of holding, relieved by the lack of resistance on his part. Then she drops her bag on the floor and strips down to her underwear in silence. No seedy comment or cocked eyebrow from him.

Not today.

Today her undressing in front of him is nothing about attempting to turn him on, nothing about setting his blood on fire and everything about the simple need to be close to one another. Everything about being able to feel skin touching skin.

As she walks up to the bed he simply lifts up the covers in a silent welcome for her to join him. Snuggling up to him, resting her head on his chest.

"Your feet are cold" He says as she puts her feet against his, sounding a little more animated then earlier.

"Yours aren't" She smiles contently when he doesn't pull his feet away.

Sliding her hand across his chest and placing it so that she can feel his heart beating against the palm of her hand she then leans in and puts her lips on his.

The kiss is soft and tender. Their tongues caught in a slow, enticing dance but it doesn't deepen further, doesn't turn passionate and heated, craving more and more.

Not today.

Today their kiss is nothing about want or need. Nothing about the passion simmering beneath the surface and everything about quiet 'I love you-s'. Everything about a grateful 'thank you for being here'.

Breaking off the kiss she leans her head back against his chest and his hand find hers under the covers, intertwining their fingers.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Today is the day he has always tried to will away or drown out to no avail. Today has always been the day when his usual remedies has no power, the only solution being to become as numb as possible and simply make it through, to survive. To lie in a dark room, one matching the darkness in his chest, counting ragged breaths until the clock strike midnight.

Today hurt just as much as it always has - until she walked in the door. Now he knows that he won't have to spend the day surviving, waiting for time to pass.

Not today.

Today is no longer only about surviving. No longer about aching to be numb and everything about her being there. Everything about feeling her soft skin against his, counting her breaths.

6…

7…

8…

"So when were you gonna tell me about our dinner plans for tonight?"

The slight catch in her breath lets him now that she was planning on waiting a while longer before sharing that piece of information with him.

"Who told you?"

"I overheard Lily and Serena this morning."

"We don't have to do anything" She assures him, lifting her head up to look at him with a worried expression on her face "It's up to you, Chuck, you know that right?"

"I don't want it to be a big deal. Just…" He doesn't quite now how to finish the sentence but she places a kiss on his collar bone before doing it in his place;

"…dinner."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Close together, her leg slung over his and her hand still on his chest. Her available hand still holding on to his as they lie together in comfortable silence.

She is half asleep, feeling nothing but safe and completely at ease lying next to him. Happy he didn't push her away like he would probably have done a few months ago. Happy it didn't take a minor war for her to persuade him to let her in.

"Chuck?" A barely there whisper, not sure if he is awake or not.

"?"

"Happy birthday."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

* * *

_omg, next chapter is the last one...! But since there seem to be a few of you guys interested in a future fic...I will give it a go! :)_


	20. To The Moon And Back

He is running in Central Park.

He is running in Central Park voluntarily. He is not at gunpoint or consumed by anger, he isn't drunk off his ass or chased by a pack of hungry wolves. No, he is running in Central Park, voluntarily, stone sober and in the _morning_. Had anyone told him a year ago, hell – six months ago - that he would ever even consider such pass-time he would have told them to lay off the drugs.

But he realized something that night he ran from Victrola and the other times after that when found himself running fuelled by the anger that still got the best of him from time to time. He realized that sometimes, running away from your problems gives you an opportunity to solve them. And that sometimes times running actually trumped scotch when it came to problem solving – not that he would ever admit such a blasphemy out loud – so he took up a new habit.

He became on of _those _people, the joggers. His pride had him keeping it a secret for a while, because honestly; Chuck Bass jogging in Central Park? Something about that statement just doesn't sound right. He told her of course – and she laughed for a solid ten minutes – then went out the next day and bought him an ipod. After that it was only a matter of time before he was discovered by Gossip Girl and that is how he ended up in this situation he is currently finding himself in.

This morning - the morning on the day of their high school graduation – he isn't jogging in Central Park. He is fucking sprinting - because that man-bang sporting, lacrosse playing best friend of his - challenged him, and he never backs out on a challenge.

Jogging or not jogging, he is still Chuck Bass, and right about now he is Chuck Bass on the verge of loosing against Nathaniel - the fucking jock - Archibald. Chuck Bass doesn't loose.

If he is about to – he changes the rules.

"Hah!" Slamming his hand against the bark of the tree right before Nate reaches it; he shoots his friend a victorious look.

"Guess those hours on the lacrosse field hasn't paid off like they should have, huh Nathaniel?" He drawls whilst trying to catch his breath.

"You almost pushed me into some old lady!" Nate bites back, leaning against the tree, breathing just as heavily as he is. "That is cheating!"

"Oh please, like you are not supposed to be able to handle a tackle?" He smirks, putting his arm around his friends shoulder as they start walking back to his limo.

Slumping down on the leather seats inside he hands Nate a bottle of water and leans back against the head rest.

"So how is Blair doing with the speech?" Nate asks, knowing very well how she has been a neurotic mess over the last few days trying to get her valedictorian speech perfect.

"She finished it last night when we got back from the ball, after we…"

"Whoa! That is enough information, man" Nate interrupts, putting his hands up defensively before changing the subject completely "I still can't believe you two aren't going to be at the same college this fall. You have been practically attached to the hip all semester."

"The hip?" He smirks, earning himself a look from Nate before continuing, serious this time "We will be fine. She will be at Yale and I will be at Harvard. We agreed. There are telephones, and I happen to have a helicopter to my disposal."

They had agreed that they would go to different colleges, after a week of ignoring the elephant in the room. Both of them thinking the same thing, both of them hesitant about addressing the subject, but they finally did and they had come to an agreement.

Yale has always been her dream, her chance to be Blair without having to be "Blair Waldorf" and he wanted her to have that. He himself still feel that he has a lot to prove - to the board of Bass Industries, to the whole world of the UES but mostly to himself - and he realized that Harvard would be the best choice for him.

Both of them came to the conclusion that they needed the chance to stand on their own two feet - to be their own person for a while - secure enough about _them_ and what they mean to each other to accept the challenge of being away from each other.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Time is a healer. It is one of those expressions that everyone has heard at some point, one of those wisdoms handed out when something bad happens to make you believe in the future and not loose hope.

Earlier he would probably have scoffed at the sappy expression but not anymore. Now he knows that it is one hundred percent true, at least as long as "time"is a reference to the girl at this moment sleeping in his bed.

Leaning against the doorpost looking down on her sleeping form – dark hair, smooth skin and slender curves – he knows that he will never be able to fully express just how much he owes her. How she is probably the only reason he is still breathing. It is an offensive thought, but he is pretty sure it is true - had she not been there he isn't sure he would have been around for long after his father's death. There is only so much drinking, getting high and self-loathing you can do before you run out of luck.

Especially when you are so incredibly lucky that you have Blair Waldorf loving your sorry ass. Then you are bound to run out of luck sooner than later, because surely there must be some sort of limit to how lucky you are allowed to get in a lifetime?

She is incredible. Perfect in every single way and still the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. He loves her with a love he never in a million years would have imagined himself capable of. It used to scare him out of his right mind, that whatever-you-need-to-the-moon-and-back kind of love - now he considers it the best part of himself.

She stirs in her sleep and the sheet covering her back slides further down, revealing more of her back. That is another quality of hers that still has him stupefied at times. Her ability to set his blood on fire in an instant. No other girl, or woman for that matter, has ever come close to affecting him like she does. Yet a glimpse of her back has him reduced to a pool of want.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"Stop staring at me like that, I am sleeping."

Her voice startles him at first, but as she lets him know she is awake there really is only one thing for him to do. Ungracefully flinging himself on top of her, covering her body with his and placing his mouth just by her ear.

"Sleeping, huh?"

"Ugh, you are all sweaty and gross" She whines in mock disgust, squirming underneath his weight "Get off of me, Bass."

"Get you off? Well, well Waldorf, you are quite the dirt talker this morning" He smirks and pulls himself off of her. Only to resolutely pull the covers away from her and take her in his arms before she even has time to react.

"Chuck! Let me down! What are you doing?" She blurts out, squirming in his arms, desperately trying to regain some poise as he carries her naked into the bathroom. To shocked to even comment on his twist of words.

"Well you told me to get you off…" He explains, securing his grip around her form as she tries to wriggle free "…and I need a shower."

"Oh no! You are not getting my hair wet; I have an appointment with my hairdresser in a few hours. Let me down" Her voice is low and menacing but turns into a panicked cry when he doesn't oblige "Let me down!"

Well inside the bathroom he stops momentarily, realizing that he himself is still fully dressed. Deciding that there is nothing that can be done about that detail he kicks off his shoes with a shrug of his shoulder. As he steps into the shower with his precious load she is kicking and making all sorts of desperate threats that has him chuckling as he turns the water on.

"No, Chuck! NO! Let me down you mother chucker!" She makes a final useless attempt to get out of the shower when he puts her down, but then breaks out laughing as the water pours down over them and leaves them both soaking wet.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

He is a man of his word, at least when it comes to, making her come, she has to give him that. She never realized how truly mind blowing showering could be until she started taking showers with Chuck Bass. Her hair got wet though, and Louis will kill her, but she admits that it is a price she is willing to pay.

He has changed into a light green shirt and black pants, standing and watching her from the doorway as she blow dries her hair and pulls it up into a loose bun.

"I can't believe we are graduating today." She says because it truly feels like a strange dream that by this time tomorrow they will be high school graduates and on their way to becoming college students, grown ups.

"Well, you better believe it, Waldorf" He drawls "I don't think headmistress Queller would appreciate her valedictorian to forget about such a trivial detail as showing up to the ceremony."

"Oh, I will be there" She answers back "And I will have her reduced to tears with my speech." A final look in the mirror, before turning around.

"Is that so?" He questions, eying her approvingly. His eyes following her hands movement as it trails down the front of her bathrobe, lingering at the belt.

"There is no doubt about it…" She smirks, stepping in closer to him "…and if I get nervous..." She continues, her mouth only inches away from his ear, smiling at the quickening of his breath "..I can always imagine that you are all naked."

"Interesting idea" He smirks back, regaining some control by tugging at the belt and sending her heart racing "I guess that would require you to keep your eyes off me. Wouldn't want you to get…distracted."

When he unties the belt she finds herself thinking that maybe distracted is a good thing.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Later on he is putting his shirt back on, standing by the dresser in his room. Buttoning it absentmindedly as she walks up to him and puts her arms around his waist from behind. Buttoning the last of the buttons for him.

"Reminiscing?" She offers jokingly but she can tell that there is something else on his mind.

"There is somewhere I need to go. Would you go with me?"

She would go with him anywhere; she would go with him to the moon and back if he asked her to and the tone of his voice lets her know that this is important to him so the answer is simple;

"Sure."

She tugs at his arm to have him turn around and when he does she runs her fingers through his still damp hair, kissing him.

"But you need to have me back at my place before noon so that I don't miss my appointment with Louis." She informs him "Or I will have to see to it that you graduate a eunuch. Louis has the longest waiting list in New York"

Happy to see a smile on his lips at her threat as he kisses her again. "Masochist, Waldorf? We both know you would be as affected by that as I would be."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

They take the limo of course, the driver seems to know where they are going and they ride together in silence. He is fidgeting nervously with the cuff of his shirt, running his fingers through his hair repeatedly.

Wondering what it is that has him nervous she is about to ask him when the limo makes a turn and she suddenly recognizes her surroundings. Suddenly realizing where they are heading and why he seems so uncomfortable and nervous. Looking over at him with a comforting look in her eyes, reaching out for his hand. The comforting look turning to one of confusion yet again as the limo makes a turn she wasn't expecting.

"Chuck, I think he is…" She begins, turning her head around to look out the window to make sure she is right.

"That is not where we are going."

His eyes dark and hollow and that is when everything falls into place, not sure what to say she simply squeezes his hand reassuringly. When the limo stops and the driver turn off the engine, she follows him as he gets out of the vehicle. Well outside, his hand resting on the door, she can see the struggle inside of him in his eyes and she pulls him closer.

Hugging him tightly until he lets go off the door and hugs her back. Letting go she still holds on to his hand and they stand side by side looking out over the cemetery in silence. The vast space basking in the sunlight, the grass a plush green carpet covering the ground.

"By the tree, Mr Bass" the driver says, getting out of the driver's seat, motioning an old tree below the slope which they are standing on top of.

"Thank you."

He lets out a sigh and she knows how big an effort it is on his side to even be here "I think I need to do this part on my own." He says, looking over to her hesitantly. Almost as if he is expecting her to disapprove or object, but she just nods and offers him an encouraging smile.

"I will be here." She reminds him before letting go of his hand, leaning back against the limo in to tell him she is in no rush.

She follows him with her eyes as he walks down the slope. The battle within him clearly visible in the way he walks and the tension in his shoulders.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

"Hi mom"

Looking down on the marble gravestone, unsure of what to do or what to say next, he shifts his weight nervously. Shoving his hands in his pockets but then removes them in the next second. He has no idea on how to do this. His voice doesn't sound like him and he clears his throat as he squats down, brushing some dry leaves off the marble that is warm from the sun underneath his fingertips. Surprising himself by the gesture but deciding to go with gut feeling on this one.

"Sorry it has been so long..." He whispers. Trailing the engraved lettering with his fingers, following the shape of his birth date and the letters of their shared last name.

_He has only been her once before, on his seventh birthday, he sweet talked his nanny into taking him - Maria that was the one. They had brought flowers but he can't remember what kind, and he held on to her hand as she put them down in front of the gravestone, unsure what to do or what to say. Watching Maria as she closed her eyes and whispered something, her voice so low he couldn't make out the words. Then she took him for ice cream._

_Bart had been furious when he found out later on. It was one of the first times that he had really seen his father's shell crack open and it had not been a pleasant experience. He remembers hiding in his room as his father lashed out at the nanny and then fired her on the spot. _

"I've missed you…I am doing okay though. There is this girl…" Stealing a glimpse of Blair standing by the limo waiting "…I guess you already know that. I think you would have loved her. I know I do…"

He keeps on talking for a while. Talking about graduation and college, about living with the van der Woodsens and going for a run with Nate that morning, but mostly he talks about Blair.

When he stands back up his legs are soar, burning and tingling. "I've gotta go graduate now…" He almost smiles to himself. "I promise I will come back and tell you all about it. If you see him…" His words get caught in his throat.

"…tell him that I, you know…him too."

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Walking up the slope to where she is standing, waiting for him, he can feel the lump in his chest evaporate upon seeing her. She walks up to meet him, allowing him to step into her open arms. Securing his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair.

"I love you."

"I love you too. Ready to go graduate?" She asks him, tilting her head back to look at him. Cupping his face with her hands and using her thumbs to brush away the remains of tears he wasn't aware of shedding.

"I guess we should get going. We don't want you to miss your appointment, do we?" Reminding her of her previous threat;

"I would hate for you to be unable to celebrate your graduation…properly…"

"No we most certainly don't. A graduation party at Victrola is not something I am willing to miss out on." She smirks, pretending not to understand what he is referring to.

As she does he has to force back a smile, because she has no idea what he has planned for them. She has no idea that she will actually be missing out on most part of the party he is throwing tonight - though he will make sure she doesn't miss out on the other part too.

She has no idea that he got a permit for his helicopter to land on the rooftop of the building next to Victrola and that Dorota is packing her bags as they speak.

There will be no waiting on a helipad for either of them this time.

*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*

Fin

* * *

_There you have it, the last chapter. I'm kinda sad this is over, it's been great. You guys have been great! I'm so flattered by the interest and support you all have shown for this story, I'm truly amazed!!!_

_A huge extra thank you to all the lovelies who have left me reviews along the way, you guys ROCK! thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!_

_Now, since this is the last chapter, please leave a review and let me know what you thought about the ending (or maybe chuck as a__ ) or what you've liked, haven't liked, favourite chapters or moments or whatever. You would make my day!_

_Anyways, enough from me._

_Love, Camilla_

_There is a sequel to this story…You can find it on my profile "How We Got To Where We're Going"_


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